


Do You Like or Like-Like Me

by ReiMori



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Age Progression, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Middle School, Explicit Language, French Canadian Jean, High Schooler!Marco, M/M, Middle Schooler!Jean, Slow Build, falling in love with your older brother's friend
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-28
Updated: 2017-05-28
Packaged: 2018-01-14 02:50:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 11
Words: 37,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1249957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReiMori/pseuds/ReiMori
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Things have been shitty ever since Jean's mom married Eren's dad. Not only did they have to move to a whole other country, but all Eren does is isolate him and call him names. In fact, Jean's pretty sure he hasn't heard a single nice thing come out of his stepbrother's mouth. </p><p>As much as he hates his older brother, Jean's actually grateful for him in a sense. Because without Eren, Jean may not have ever met the kind, cool, and totally hot Marco, the epitome of Jean's wet dreams. </p><p>Too bad he's a whole two years older than Jean, and a high schooler at that. But what Jean doesn't know is that his little crush isn't entirely unrequited.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [fanart drawn by gimmes on tumblr](http://gimmes.tumblr.com/post/76548687816/i-cant-get-over-lil-marco-and-jean-with-braces-ugh-you)
> 
> It's literally the cutest thing in the world!!

   Jean bobbed his head and furrowed his eyebrows as his lips moved to the lyrics. He didn’t care what people said. Linkin Park would forever be his favorite band.  
  
   "Hey, douchewaffle, stop listening to your emo music for a sec." Jean's stepbrother nudged him.  
  
   Jean rolled his eyes and took out an earbud, "What’s up, bruh?"  
  
   Eren had to physically restrain himself or else he's punch his obnoxious little thirteen-year-old stepbrother in the face.  
  
   "I have friends coming over so don't show your stupid pimply face downstairs whatsoever. Stay in your room and jerk off for five hours, I honestly don't fucking care. Just stay away from us, got it?"  
  
   The younger boy frowned, "Whatever. Not like I wanna be around your meatheaded friends anyway."  
  
   He stuck his earbud back into his ear and raised the volume several bars.  
  
    _Crawwwwling in my skiiiin. These wouuuuunds they will not heeeeeel_.  
  
   Eren rolled his eyes, muttering "freak" under his breath as he went back downstairs and waited for his friends to arrive.  
  
   Jean leaned back in his computer chair and kept scrolling down a 4chan forum.  
  
    _Fucking dickweed thinks he's so cool because he got on the football team and keeps bragging about how the whole school wants to suck his dick. Like wow, cool story bro, tell it again. Fucking asshat._  
  
   The thirteen-year-old passed a funny meme and smirked. At least he could count on the internet on making him feel better.  
  
   Jean glanced around and checked the clock. His parents weren't due home for another few hours and his stepbrother wouldn't bother him as long as he stayed away, so Jean was alone for a good while.  
  
   He licked his lips and opened up the incognito tab on his browser. His heartbeat sped up as he typed in a well-known url and within seconds, images of naked women in compromising positions filled his screen.  
  
  _S-Shit..._ Jean thought as he felt his pants tighten.  
  
   Yeah, he could definitely kill time this way.

* * *

  
    About an hour or so later, Jean cracked the door to his bedroom open. A vague smell of axe, sweat, and teenage hormones escaped as Jean shuffled out and ventured down the stairs.  
  
    His little escapade with his right hand left him hungry and honestly he was just bored out of his mind. So he figured he might as well get some chips or something.  
  
    As the thirteen-year-old made his way into the kitchen, he passed the door that led to the basement, where he heard the boisterous laughs of Eren and his friends echoing off the basement walls. Jean mumbled something along the lines of "Eren and his fucking sausage fest down there" but made no attempt to join the high schoolers in whatever they were doing.  
  
    Instead, he quickly made his way to the food pantry and grabbed every chip bag he saw. Literally the only thing on his mind was food. His eyes darted to an oreo bag and he wasted no time in picking it up and tried to balance it on his arms, which were already filled with chips, cookies, sweet tarts, and popcorn.  
  
     Suddenly Jean heard the refrigerator open and he turned his head.  
  
    He made eye contact with the culprit who snuck up on him.  
  
    "Who ah yew?" He asked a freckly teen who looked like a deer in headlights. Unfortunately Jean's mouth was full of Kit Kat packs and couldn't accurately convey his thoughts.  
  
    "Uh...I'm not entirely sure what you're asking but I'm Marco, Eren's friend." Jean furrowed his eyebrows and glared at the older teen. "A-Are you Eren's little brother?"  
  
    Jean nearly dropped all his stuff. He spit out the Kit Kat and dropped it onto the chip bags in his arms.  
  
    " _Step_ brother. Not actually related."  
  
    "Oh, right, yeah, he mentioned something like that."  
  
    Jean decided on tuning out the freckled teen just as he was about the leave the pantry but curiosity got the best of him. He figured he'd been bored so he wasn't in any rush to go back to his teeny bopper "man" cave.  
  
    "What are you doing up here?"  
  
    The older teen visibly jumped, having not expected Jean to respond.  
  
    "I was getting a bit thirsty and the other guys are busy playing video games so I figured I'd just get a glass of water or something..." Marco’s brown eyes drifted away from Jean before glancing back up in worry. "Should I not have? I mean it might be rude of me to just go around Eren's house without permission. I just completely forgot someone else was home so..."  
  
    Jean just stared at the anxious teen and rolled his eyes. "I don't care. Do whatever you want."  
  
    The thirteen-year-old kicked the pantry door closed with his foot and made his way out the kitchen. Unfortunately he hadn't anticipated one of the counter chairs to be moved, and with his arms filled with miscellaneous crap, he didn't exactly see where he was going. Needless to say, it was a miracle Jean didn't break his face as he haphazardly fell onto the floor, thus scattering the various junk food in his arms.  
  
    A string of obscenities quickly left the teen's mouth but before he even got up, a hand was holding his forearm, helping him get to his knees.  
  
    "Oh my gosh, are you okay? Are you hurt?" The freckled teen asked.  
  
     Jean felt a blush creep onto his face and he snatched his forearm away. "I'm fine. I'm good, no harm done." He shuffled to gather his food and avoided making eye contact with Eren's friend.  
  
    "Here, let me help." The older boy offered as he collected the packages of candy off the floor.  
  
    "I said I got it."  
  
    "And _I_ said I'd help."  
  
    Jean sat back as he watched Marco help him pick up the junk food off the floor. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't a little miffed at the other teen's obstinacy but it's not like he minded getting help.  
  
    So the two just sat there and collected the food together in silence until the older teen decided enough was enough.  
  
    "So…what’s your name?”  
  
    _Figures Eren wouldn't even bother mentioning it_.  
  
    "Jean."  
  
    "Oh, that's cool. It sounds all foreign and stuff." Marco said with a smile.  
  
    "Uh...yeah, I guess?"  
  
    "Do you need help carrying this stuff up?" Marco asked once he picked up the last bag of m &m's.  
  
    "No, I'll just-"  
  
    "Ew, what the fuck are you doing down here?" Eren's voice made Jean's skull throb.  
  
    The younger teen in question rolled his eyes, "What's it to you?"  
  
    "Don't talk to my friends, braceface."  
  
    "Oh, no, he just tripped and I-" Marco attempted to interject but Eren grabbed Jean's shirt and pulled him out of the kitchen.  
  
    "I thought I told you to stay away from my friends today. Just go back to your fucking cave and stay there, got it?"  
  
    Jean shrugged Eren off and glared at his stepbrother. "Fuck you and your friends."  
  
    Marco bit his lip and seemed as if he wanted to say something but Eren nudged him towards the basement door.  
  
    "Come on, Marc. You're missing out on this awesome Halo game me and Reiner got going on."  
  
     Marco's eyes met Jean's briefly before the younger teen looked away and trudged up the stairs to his room.  
  
    Jean slammed his bedroom door and dumped his junk food onto his bed. He quickly grabbed his headphones. Luckily he had left his iPod on a new screamo playlist he just downloaded so once he pressed play, he quickly got into it. He bobbed his head, swishing his hair across his face and side to side as he did so.  
  
    Eren could ban him to his room, ruin whatever little socialization he had, and could even call himself the king of the household while their parents were gone. But the one thing he couldn't take away was his music.  
  
    And that's all that mattered to Jean.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean was getting real sick and tired of Eren and his stupid friends. Especially that freckly bastard Marco. Who did he think he was? Mocking him and shit.
> 
> Or so Jean felt until he found himself in a very odd situation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god guyssssss
> 
> OVER 1150 HITS, HOLY CRAP THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!! Oh gosh, there are absolutely no words to describe how I'm feeling right now. 
> 
> So as thanks, I created 2 playlists for you guys. One for jeanmarco and one is basically what Jean's iPod looks like atm (you can tell when his crush on Marco starts xD)
> 
> Here are the links: [jeanmarco playlist](http://8tracks.com/reimori/do-you-like-or-like-like-me) and [Jean's iPod](http://8tracks.com/reimori/his-world)

    Jean turned his key and kicked the door open to his house. His headphones blasted with a loud bass. A few throaty screams could be heard from his earphones, thus alerting his houseguests of his presence. As if the door slamming weren't enough.

 

    _Ugh, can't Eren keep his prick friends where no one can SEE them?_

  
  
    The thirteen-year-old tugged his backpack closer and shoved his hands further down his sweater pockets as he walked past the living room filled with boisterous high school students.

  
  
    It was a short journey from the front door to the stairs, but the living room was proving to be a big obstacle for Jean. Luckily, no one so much as batted an eye at his sudden arrival. They all just...acted as if he didn't exist.

  
    _Typical_ , the teen thought.

  
  
    Just as he passed the corner and set one foot on the first staircase step, a voice called out his name.

  
    "Hey, Jean!"

  
  
    Jean paused and took an earbud out as he turned his head. "What?"

  
  
    A familiar freckled face emerged from the mass of teenage boys sitting on the couch and smiled at Jean.

  
  
    "Hi," Marco gave him a sincere smile, which further irritated Jean.

  
  
    So he simply trudged up the stairs and ignored Eren's friend. Knowing Eren, he probably had his friend do that just to mock Jean. Why else would Marco talk to him? It's not like he knew the older teen well enough to be on _greeting_ terms.

  
  
    Jean slammed his bedroom door shut and chucked his backpack into the corner of his room.

  
  
    _Those assholes making fun of me again. Think I'm some sort of entertainment. Fucking douchebags._

  
  
    A brief image of Marco's smiling face appeared in Jean's mind and it made him frown. Marco hadn't _seemed_ like the typical asshat Eren usually hung out with; he seemed like he genuinely cared about carrying on a conversation with Jean. But the thirteen-year-old realized that was a mistake in judgment on his part. Anyone associated with _Eren Jaeger_ was bound to be no good.

  
  
    A knock at his door startled Jean, causing him to snap out of his thoughts. Jean hadn't even realized he had clenched his fist so tight his nails were cutting into his palm.

  
  
    "Who is it?" He called out.

  
  
    "It's me," a female voice came from the opposite side of the door.

  
  
    _Mom._

  
  
    Jean turned and opened the door for his mother.

  
  
    "You're home?"

  
  
    Mrs. Kirschtein, or Kirschtein-Jaeger at this point, nodded and walked into her son's room. She sat down on the edge of his bed and patted the side next to her, inviting him to sit down too.

  
  
    "I know this is sudden, but you know my and Grisha's anniversary is coming up." Jean couldn't help but make a face, which caused his mother to smack him upside the head. "Don't make that face, young man. It's been a whole year since we got married and your stepfather and I decided last night that we'll be going away for the week. It won't be a long trip, just up to Montreal to visit some old friends and maybe wander around the area we first met."

  
  
    Jean tried not to gag.

  
  
    "So you're just going to leave me here. With Eren. For a week!? Ma, I've got friends up there that I want to visit too!"

  
  
    Jean's mom shook her head, "Jean, you're a big boy now. You lasted a whole two weeks without me when I went on my honeymoon. You can make it through this week."

  
  
    "Yeah but that was when I still had a _home_ and _friends_. I'm in enemy territory now, ma. You can't leave me here!"

  
  
    Clara Kirschtein-Jaeger sighed and stood up, "Jean, I've worked overtime for the past two weeks just for this vacation. And your stepfather has been practically living at the hospital due to the amount of work he has. We deserve a little break, don't you think?"

  
  
    The thirteen-year-old couldn't believe his ears. His mother was literally going to leave two teenage boys _alone_ , without supervision, for a whole week. Jean was undoubtedly going to die.

  
  
    "I already know what you're thinking, mon petit champignon. We'll leave enough money for food and extra expenses and I already asked Pixis to check in on you guys every so often."

  
  
    "The creepy old man next door!?"

  
  
    Clara frowned, "Don't be so rude, Jean Pierre Kirschtein. He is a fine old fellow who is nice enough to look after you and your stepbrother. So be nice to him _and_ your brother or so help me I will take away your computer."

  
  
    "It's a desktop!"

  
  
    "Do I need to repeat myself?"

  
  
    Jean pouted and crossed his arms, "...No, ma'am."

  
  
    "Good," Clara turned to leave the room but she stopped to ruffle her son's messy hair. "And _do_ try and get a haircut. You're looking more and more like a girly mushroom everyday."

  
  
    Jean slapped his mom's hand away, "Ma, it's the _style_. I'm supposed to look androgynous. It adds to the mystery and makes girls want me."

  
  
    Clara bit her lip and tried so hard not to laugh. "Whatever you say, champignon."

  
  
    Just as Jean's mother walked out, a familiar green-eyed teen poked his head through his bedroom door.

  
  
    "Your middle name is Pierre?" Eren said mockingly.

  
  
    "Fuck off, dickbag," Jean said as he tried to slam the door on his stepbrother's face. Unfortunately, Eren had already put his foot in between the door and himself.

  
  
    "Your mom told me about her and my dad's little getaway when she got home from work. Let's just get things straight. While they're gone, _I'm_ in charge, got that Napoleon?"

 

    Jean looked at Eren in both disbelief and outrage. "I'm French- _Canadian_ , I'm not from fucking _France_ you cumdumpster!"

  
  
    "Yeah yeah, whatever. Just don't fuck things up while they're gone and neither of us will get in trouble. Oh, and you're not allowed to touch my shit when I go out. Got it?"

  
    The thirteen-year-old narrowed his eyes before kicking his brother's shin and slamming the door.

  
  
    Now he _really_ needed to blast some Linkin Park or Three Days Grace or something. It was going to be a long week.

* * *

  
    The rest of that week was spent mostly helping his mom pack and trying to avoid his stepbrother and his friends. As much as he tried, whenever he was home, Marco would greet him, which irked Jean to no end. He felt like he was being made fun of. He even told Eren to make his friend stop mocking him. To which Eren replied that Marco was just a nice guy who said hi to everyone, which made him one of the most popular guys in school.

  
  
    _Figures,_ Jean had thought.

  
  
    Either way, it bothered him. He didn't want some smiley high schooler taking pity on him and trying to be friendly. He wasn't just going to suddenly worship the guy just 'cause he said hi to Jean a few times. In fact, Jean decided, the next time he saw Marco, he'd give him a piece of his mind and tell him to cut out...whatever it was he was doing.

  
  
    But once Jean and Eren's parents left on vacation, Eren seldom stayed at home. Jean assumed he went out partying or doing whatever high schoolers do. So, since Eren wasn't home, neither were his friends. Jean finally had the whole house to himself. No Eren, no annoying high schoolers, not even a mom who nagged him to take the trash out. It was just Jean, him, and himself.

  
  
    So it came as a surprise when he heard the doorbell ring.

  
  
    _It's probably that old man checking up on us._ Jean sprinted down the stairs and swung the door open.

  
  
    Once he did, he realized that no, it _wasn't_ Pixis paying a visit. Standing in his doorway was the last person he wanted to see.

  
  
    _Marco._

  
  
    "Hey, Jean. What's up?" The freckled teen waved.

  
  
    "Uh...Eren's not home." Was the only response that came to Jean's mind. Why else would Marco be there?

  
  
    "Oh, I know. He's got football practice right now."

  
  
    Jean scrunched his eyebrows together in confusion. "Then, why are you here?"

  
    Marco stayed silent for a bit before shrugging and replying, "I figured I had time to kill so I could just wait for him. Can I come inside?"

  
    "I, uh...yeah, sure, I guess." Jean opened the door wide enough for Marco to come in.

 

    Jean shuffled back and suddenly felt extremely underdressed in his pajamas while Marco stood in front of him in jeans and a polo.

 

    _Who even wears a polo in tenth grade? Jeez. Preppy fuck._

 

    Marco took his shoes off at the entrance and made his way into the living room. Jean wasn’t sure whether he should follow him or just leave the teen to his own entertainment. Jean turned to sprint up the stairs and avoid conversation with Marco, but the freckled teen opened his mouth before he could.

 

    “So…what were you doing?”

 

    _Enjoying some piece and quiet before you came along._

 

    “Nothing much. Just…on the computer, playing games.” Jean looked down at his bare feet and started playing around with the edges of his plaid pajama pants.

 

    “You like playing video games?” Marco asked. Jean just nodded and slowly made his way around the couch. “What kind of games do you play?”

 

    “Just whatever I find online. Eren’s the only one with a platform so…”

 

    Marco’s eyes widened and so did his smile. He sat down next to Jean and crossed his legs.

 

    “Do you wanna play Xbox with me downstairs?” Marco leaned in a bit too close to Jean, causing the thirteen-year-old to inch away.

 

    “I’m not allowed to play Eren’s Xbox when he’s away.”

 

    A kind of mischievous grin suddenly appeared on Marco’s face. “I won’t tell if you don’t.”

 

    He winked and Jean felt his ears heat up.

 

     “O-Okay, but just one game. I don’t want my ass getting kicked by Eren when he gets home. He’ll make me scrub the toilet with my toothbrush again.” Jean stood up and walked towards the basement door.

 

    Marco followed him and before he knew it, the elder teen was ruffling his hair. “I don’t know why Eren’s so mean to you. If I had a cute little brother like you I’d spoil him rotten.”

 

    Jean felt his heart pulsing in his throat. He pulled his head away from Marco’s hand and tried flattening his hair down.

 

    “S-Shut up.”

 

    All Marco did was smile and laugh as he followed him down the basement stairs.

 

    _Who the fuck is this guy even?_

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this chapter lived up to your expectations. I worked extra hard on it and I was so nervous about writing it tbh since you all seem to have enjoyed the first chapter so much ^///^
> 
> btw, Jean's mom calls him her little mushroom. ISNT THAT SO CUTE OMFGNSLN
> 
> Feel free to post whatever you like on the fic: dylm tag on tumblr. My username is mementoreimori. I'll be posting previews, playlists and fanart there so you can always find them on the tag and my blog :D
> 
> Again, thank you soooooo much for reading!!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was starting to get weird for Jean. 
> 
> First he hated that freckly bastard, and now all of a sudden he's coming over everyday to play video games with him.
> 
> Not to mention how overly affection Marco is. It makes Jean beyond uncomfortable and yet, he finds himself oddly okay with it.
> 
> Like seriously, what the hell?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost 2500 hits, guys, OHMYGOSHHHH O///O
> 
> You are all so amazing, I can't believe it. You guys are both precious and insane omg, I love you all~~~
> 
> I worked extra hard on this chapter, so I hope you all enjoy ^.^

    "You're missing all the red ones."

  
    "I don't know _why_. I'm hitting it as hard as I can!"

  
    Jean focused on maneuvering his fingers across the plastic guitar. "I know. I hear you trying to murder the fucking thing."

  
    Loud cacophonous sounds came from both the pseudo drum set and the TV, alerting the teens to how poorly Marco was doing.

  
    Jean sighed as he paused the game and looked at the elder teen.

  
    "I'm hitting it!" Marco said as he hit the wrong panel.

  
    "You're hitting the orange one instead of the red one."

  
    "Oh…whoops," Marco laughed before glancing down and tapping the correct panel.

  
    Jean felt like tearing out his hair. He took the game off pause and restarted the game.

  
    After the opening, the TV continued emitting negative sounds, proving that Marco wasn't doing any better.

  
    "Dude, you're beyond sucking right now."

  
    "I just don't think I'm--shoot!-uh, I’m not good at this song." The freckled teen tried to hit the yellow panel while simultaneously stepping on the pedal.

  
    "How can you suck at ‘The Middle’? It's a freaking _classic_."

  
    "Hey, drums are a tough instrument. No hating." He continued to fail at their current game on Guitar Hero. "Maybe we should go back to playing Halo."

  
  
    "Hell no!" Jean flipped his hair to the side, trying to get it out of his eyes. "We've been playing that every time you come over."

  
  
    "You're more tired of losing than of the game itself," Marco grinned as he settled his drumsticks on top of the set, clearly giving up on the game.

  
  
    Jean flipped Marco the finger. "It's not my fault I don't play Xbox often."

  
    Marco shifted from his position on a beanbag. He sprawled out onto his side and supported his head with the palm of his hand.

  
    "Do you want to watch a movie instead? I brought a few DVDs over."

  
    The younger teen pouted as he practically tossed his guitar to the side. "I thought you said you brought over Mortal Kombat this time."

  
    Marco shook his head, "I was planning on it, but my cousin stole it last time she was over."

  
    "Sucks to suck." Jean grabbed the remote and turned the DVD player on after shutting off Eren's xbox. "So what do you have?"

  
    "Uh, lemme check." Marco turned over onto his stomach and leaned over the top of the beanbag. He reached down to shift through a bag filled with DVD covers. "So are you in the mood for X-Men: First Class, the Ides of March, Captain America, or, uh...the new Transformers movie?"

  
  
    Jean's eyes seemed to sparkle, "Are you fucking serious right now?" Marco seemed confused. "You have like all my favorite movies, holy shit." The thirteen-year-old moved over to Marco's beanbag and kneeled next to it, looking through the bag Marco had in his hand. Jean picked up The Ides of March, which he realized was a bootleg version going by the plain cover with the title written in permanent marker. "Didn't peg you for political drama type."

  
  
    Marco sat up on his forearms and rubbed his finger underneath his nose. "They're interesting. It's just so...real."

  
    Jean looked down at the DVD in his hands. "Then we should watch it."

  
    "Hm? What? Really?"

  
    "Uh, yeah. I haven't seen this one yet so...I mean, you seem to like it too so I figured 'why not?'" A bright red blush spread across Jean's cheeks.

 

 

    _Fuck, it's tough being considerate_.

  
  
    Marco smiled wide, "You sure?"

  
    "You're obviously happy about it so just accept my sudden kindness, damn it." He popped open the cover and inserted the DVD into the player.

  
    Jean clicked the play button as he settled back into his own beanbag. He glanced over at his freckled friend and noticed Marco curling up onto the beanbag and trying to sneak a few gummy worms.

  
    "You had candy and you didn't tell me!?" Jean practically tackled Marco to the ground.

  
    Marco let out a loud yelp as his body hit the ground. He started laughing hysterically, "I knew you'd freak out."

  
    "So you hide it from me?"

  
    "Well I thought you'd just eat whatever you had in the pantry."

  
    "Ughh, but my mom forgot to go shopping before she left. We have jackshit!" Jean groaned.

  
    Marco frowned, "It's because you eat like a maniac."

  
    Jean's bony fist met Marco's side, causing him to laugh even harder. "I'm a growing teenager. I need the nutrients."

  
    "I highly doubt there's nutritional value in fruit roll-ups and Doritos."

  
    The younger teen glared at his friend but rolled off him and crawled onto his own beanbag. The movie began playing and he sat back, eyes focused on the screen.

  
    As Jean folded his knees into his body and curled his toes in, he allowed his mind to wander slightly.

  
    He still couldn't believe his situation at the moment. It had been about a week since Marco first came over. Jean had initially thought Marco was just another obnoxious teenager who teased people for fun. Granted, Jean was only accustomed to high schoolers like Eren so he didn't have much of a positive opinion to start with. But the more he got to know Marco, the more he realized that he was actually a genuinely _nice guy_. Which actually pissed Jean off even more since it made him feel like an asshole for treating Marco badly.

  
  
    Halfway through the movie, Marco's stomach started grumbling. As if on purpose, Jean's stomach did the same.

  
  
    "It's like we're having a concert over here," Marco laughed.

  
    Jean paused the movie. "Wanna scrounge for food?"

  
    "Hell yes." The freckled teen jumped up and scrambled to get to the staircase.

  
    The younger teen followed suit but once he was at the top of the stairs, he heard a familiar set of keys jingling and the front door began to shift.

  
    _Shitshitshit, did Eren come home early?_ Jean glanced down the basement stairs. _All our crap is still down there. He'll know we were touching his stuff._

  
  
    Marco popped his head out of the kitchen, "Is someone home?"

  
    Jean didn't have enough time to respond because the front door opened. The thirteen-year-old held his breath for a few moments, worried his worst nightmare would come true.

  
    Fortunately, it was only his next-door neighbor.

  
    Jean sighed a breath of relief before going to greet Pixis. "Uh, hi..."

  
    "Good evening, Jean. How are you doing today?" The old man smiled.

  
    "I'm fine. I'm alive. I'm eating well. No reason to worry." The teen just wanted the old man to leave.

  
    "Ah, well, that's good. How's your brother?"

  
    Jean rolled his eyes internally, "He's good. Out at football practice. He’s usually busy with that."

  
    Pixis nodded, "He's a quarterback for Trost, right? My colleague's grandson is apparently good friends with him. He said he had a big game coming up."

  
    "I wouldn't know, sir. He doesn't exactly tell me much."

  
    _Jesus Christ, can he just LEAVE already!?_

  
    The older man lingered in the doorway for a bit longer until glancing at his watch. "Well, I should be heading back now. Just wanted to check up on you boys like your mother asked me too. It's good to see you're doing well. If you ever need anything, don't hesitate to let me know."

  
    Jean rested a hand on the door, "Will do. Good night." Without a moment’s hesitation, Jean slammed the door and shuffled towards the kitchen.

 

    “Who was that?” Marco asked.

 

    “Just our creepy neighbor. My mom gave him a set of keys and asked him to check up on us every so often to make sure we haven’t starved to death yet.”

 

    Marco chuckled at Jean’s dramatic exaggeration. “Well you _would_ be starving if I hadn’t ordered pizza these past few days.”

 

    “Shut up. I’m fully capable of surviving on my own, thank you very much.”

 

    “So says the kid who nearly choked on pizza.” Marco snorted.

 

    Jean glared up at the teen, who happened to be a good eight inches taller than him. “It was _one_ _fucking time!_ Jesus fuck, the cheese goes down the wrong pipe _once_ and suddenly I’m an incompetent derpface who can’t chew right.”

 

    Marco ruffled the thirteen-year-old’s shaggy hair and laughed harder than Jean had ever heard him laugh before.

 

    The thought was odd to the younger teen. It had honestly only been a week since Marco began coming over regularly. At first, he visited under the pretense of “waiting for Eren to get home”, but by the third day, it became obvious that Marco knew Eren wouldn’t be getting home any time soon. Jean realized as much when Marco would leave about twenty minutes before Eren got home. The freckled teen had it all planned out.

 

    So the two-tone haired teen confronted him and Marco had simply replied, “I like playing video games with you.”

 

    _Like, who the fuck even says that?_ Jean had thought to himself.

 

    But after realizing Marco meant no harm and was sincere in his budding friendship with Jean, the younger teen figured letting Marco come over couldn’t hurt. Hell, it beat being alone all day doing nothing. So, their odd semi-bonding time began with early afternoon video game playing after school and it lasted until late evening when Eren came back from hanging out with his team after practice.

 

    As Jean grabbed a few lunchable packages for himself and Marco, he began to contemplate whatever it was he and Marco were playing at. Jean knew their awkward acquaintanceship, or whatever it was called, had to end sometime.

 

    “So what do you want to play tomorrow? I can ask Reiner for some first-person shooters he doesn’t play anymore.” Marco said as he opened up his lunchable.

 

    Jean started playing with his bangs. “I don’t know. I mean, my mom and stepdad will be coming back tomorrow, so Eren won’t be staying out as often so…”

 

    Marco’s smile wavered for a split second before shrugging, “That’s fine. I can still come over. Though, I doubt we can play Xbox without Eren noticing.”

 

    “Yeah…” Jean played with his crackers. He wasn’t sure why, but he felt slightly guilty.

 

    The older teen probably noticed this because he ruffled Jean’s hair, a habit he had since the first time he met Jean, and smiled softly. “You can always come over to my place whenever Eren’s bullying you.”

 

    Jean’s entire face reddened and he attempted to hide his blush with his shaggy hair. “Creeper.”

 

    Marco took his hand off Jean’s head and went back to eating his lunchable. “No, but seriously, you can text me whenever you want. I only live like a fifteen-minute walk from here.”

 

    Jean curled up in his wooden chair and avoided eye contact with the freckled teen, who noticed how uncomfortable Jean suddenly felt.

 

    So Marco quickly changed the subject, “Bet I can beat you at Dance Dance Revolution.”

 

    Jean’s head snapped back up and he frowned, “Nuh-uh! That’s legit _the_ game I’m best at.”

 

    The elder teen grinned, “Wanna bet?”

 

    “Oh, you’re so fucking on.” Jean said as he suddenly pushed out his chair and dashed for the basement door.

 

    Their days of mindlessly playing video games on Eren’s Xbox would soon have to come to an end, but something told Jean he’d be seeing more of Marco soon enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I still can't believe you all like this fic. It's basically just me reliving my dweeby middle school phase through Jean.  
> Okay, that's not true. But still, I'm glad you all like it so far :D
> 
> I'm tracking the fic: dylm tag so I'll be posting there every so often! 
> 
> Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter because next chapter or two is where the plot will really start to pick up. And maybe even a time skip uhuehuehue


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean wasn't sure what the feeling in the pit of his stomach was or the feeling that made his heart beat rapidly against his chest. All he knew was that it made him anxious.
> 
> Is this what having a friend is like?
> 
> Or is it...something else?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys are seriously THE BEST!!!
> 
> I'm sorry this took about 2 weeks to post but I was so worried it wouldn't meet any expectations you guys had ;A; But I'm happy with how it turned out, so I hope you enjoy chapter 4 of dweeby Jean's love story LOOOOOL
> 
> Also: god BLESS [ Estelle ](http://justpabulous.tumblr.com/) for her help with French-Canadian slang uwu Makes Jean seem more authentic tbh
> 
> Btw, I realized that this fic will most likely have a good 30+ chapters. Isn't that insane??? Well, now we're in it for the long run. Hope you all enjoy the ride :3

    The next few weeks proved to be tedious, to say the least. Eren spent more time at home whenever he wasn't busy with football practice, which meant less time Jean could hang out with Marco.

  
    True, the elder teen _had_ invited him to his house, but Jean was far from keen on that idea. He didn't know why but it made him...uncomfortable how close he and Marco had become in such a short period of time. There was no possible way Jean could have gone from hating the guy's guts to suddenly craving his companionship. It was insane just to think about it.

  
    So Jean refused to allow himself to become _too_ attached to his stepbrother's friend. No matter how kind he was. Because chances were...it'd end up badly anyway. It always does.

  
    Marco may have caught onto Jean's guarded personality because he very rarely contacted him. The only times he texted him were when he knew Eren would be out of the house. He'd ask if he could come over and play video games, to which Jean never said no.

  
    So it came as a surprise when Marco texted him during the winter vacation. Jean was under the assumption they wouldn't see each other, much less speak to each other, since Eren was off from school and thus at home practically twenty-four/seven.

  
  
 **Freckle-Face McGee**  
    **Hey, are you busy tomorrow?**

  
  
    Jean stared at the text and hesitated before typing out a reply.

  
  
_**erens home all week**_

  
  
    Not even a minute later, a response came.

  
  
**Freckle-Face McGee**   
**Good, so it sounds like you'll be needing a breather ;3**

  
  
    Jean would be lying if he said his face didn't heat up. _Stupid emoticons._

  
  
**_wut do u hav plannd mr polo-bodt?_**

  
  
    This time, Marco took a bit longer to type out a response.

  
  
**Freckle-Face McGee  
    Wanna go snowboarding?**

  
  
    Jean's eyes practically began to sparkle.

  
  
**_ur fukin wit me rite?_ **

  
  
    God, he really hoped Marco wasn't kidding. He's _always_ wanted to go snowboarding but his mom never liked the idea of "potential injuries", what with being a nurse and all. And his stepdad and Eren detested cold weather. Which really made Jean wonder why they lived in New York in the first place.

  
    Jean felt his phone vibrate against his pillow.

  
  
**Freckle-Face McGee  
    Nope. My family is driving upstate for some reunion but they agreed to drop off all the kids at a nearby ski lodge. So I was just wondering if you wanted to come :)))**

  
  
_Marco Bodt, how are you even real?_

  
  
_**its jus 4 the day? cuz my mom aint all bout sleepovrs n junk ://**_

  
  
    Not to mention how nervous he got just imagining him having a sleepover with the one guy he didn't want to get attached to.

  
  
**Freckle-Face McGee  
    Yep, just for the day :D It's only about an hour and a half from here so it's doable. So is tomorrow good for you?**

  
  
    Jean thought about it some more and figured, "eh, why not" and typed out a reply.

  
**  
_yea, thats gud. wut time?_**

  
  
**Freckle-Face McGee**   
**Around 9. I'll text you when I'm outside.**   
  
**Freckle-Face McGee**   
**Oh, sorry. I forgot you still need to ask your parents, right? :(**

  
  
_**nah, we r gud. ill jus tell em im goin out**_

  
  
    Jean didn't even wait for a response. He scrolled through his phone, found his mom's number and dialed it. He still had to ask for permission, even though he told Marco otherwise.

  
    "Jean? Honey, what is it? Is everything okay?" His mom sounded worried. With good reason too, considering Jean _never_ called her at work.

  
    "Yeah, ma, I'm fine, jeez. I'm just wondering if I could go over my friend's house tomorrow. We're gonna watch Christmas movies and junk with his family." Jean didn't know why he had to lie about what he was doing, but he was sure his mom would say no to the snowboarding.

  
    "What friend? Does he live far?"

  
    The thirteen-year-old felt himself get agitated. "He's my friend from school. He lives like fifteen minutes away."

  
    "What his name?"

  
    "Ma, seriously? I'm thirteen and I just want to hang out with my friend."

  
    Jean could hear his mother sigh, "Okay, we'll talk more when I get home."

  
    "Is that a yes?"

  
    "I'll be working overtime again, so it's not like you'll have much to do tomorrow. An outing won't hurt. Just invite your brother so he doesn’t get into trouble, okay?"

  
    Jean rolled his eyes, "Ouais, ma, I got it. Bye."

  
    Without hesitation Jean ended the phone call and rolled off his bed. He opened his bedroom door and took a deep breath before calling out.

  
    "Hey fuckface, I'm heading out tomorrow and my mom's working overtime. Don't kill yourself while I'm gone."

  
    A bit of rustling could be heard from behind Eren's door on the opposite side of the hall. The green-eyed teen threw open the door.

  
    "Who you talkin' to, brace-face? 'Cause it sure as hell couldn't be me."

  
    Jean flipped him the finger, "Not my fault I'm gonna have fun and you won't. All holed up on your room like a loser."

  
    "Look who's talking, hermit. And since when do you have friends?"

  
    "Since when do you care?"

  
    Eren's eyes narrowed, "You're getting quite a mouth on you, huh?"

  
    Jean shrugged, "Just don't do anything to make my mom worry like last time."

  
    "Hey, it was _one_ time! Anyway, Armin went away for the week. His grandpa wanted to go to Boca or some shit."

  
    "How heartbreaking," the sarcasm was thick. "What about your girlfriend?"

  
    Eren threw a nearby sock across the hall, which didn't exactly make it to Jean's door.

  
    "Mikasa's brother came home from college so her family's like bonding and crap."

  
    Despite having a lot of friends, Eren clearly had no plans for the vacation. Jean almost felt bad. Almost.

 

* * *

  
    Marco’s van pulled up in front of Jean's house exactly at nine. Jean nearly wanted bite Marco's head off for being so punctual, but he knew it'd take some time for them to get to the ski lodge.

  
    "Not much of a morning person, huh?" Marco teased as he climbed out of the minivan and helped Jean in.

  
    Jean almost cursed the older teen out but a cheery voice greeted him from the driver's seat.

  
    "Hello, Jean! I've heard so much about you."

  
    Marco nudged Jean towards the back seats since his cousins were taking up the three seats in the middle.

  
    Jean sat down and called out to greet who he assumed was Marco's mom. "Uh, hi, Mrs. Bodt."

  
    "Yeah, Marc won't shut up about you." A freckled girl who looked a bit older than Marco said.

  
    "Ymirrrr," Marco poked his cousin’s side to shut up. He then turned to Jean and cleared out his throat. "Sorry for my family. They all like to tease. Uh, anyway, you met my mom. My dad's sitting next to her."

  
    "Hey ya, Jean!" Marco's dad called out as if on cue.

  
    "Sassy pants over there is Ymir," Marco pointed to the freckled teen sitting diagonally to the left of Jean. "That's her sister, Ilse." He motioned to the freckled girl with short hair next to Ymir. And then he settled a hand on the shoulder of the guy sitting in front of him. "And this here is Samuel, the only sane one in the family besides me."

  
    Samuel chuckled, his deep voice caught Jean off guard. "Nice try, Marc. I'm still not leaving you my PS3."

  
    Marco pouted, "Well, it was worth a shot." He leaned over to Jean and mentioned how Samuel and Ymir were graduating in June but only Samuel was going away so Marco and Ymir were badgering him for his stuff.

  
    Jean sat in silence as he watched Marco interact with his family during the whole car ride upstate.

  
    "Marc said you're my age," Ilse turned around to speak to Jean.

  
    Jean looked surprised, "You're thirteen?"

  
    "Yeah, duh." Ilse practically rolled her eyes.

  
    "You look older."

  
    "I get that a lot," Ilse said as she turned back in her seat.

 

  
_Wow, bitch much?_

  
  
    Marco quickly tried to salvage the atmosphere, "Sorry, Ilse loves reading adult books so she's kind of adopted the whole condescending attitude."

  
    Ilse's ears reddened, "Rude!"

  
    The older teen laughed in his seat but didn't apologize. Jean bit his lip before taking out his phone.

  
**  
_did i say smth wrong?_**

  
  
    Jean heard a familiar vibrating sound come from Marco's jean pocket.  
  
    Marco reached for his phone and a smirk formed on his face when he saw who the text was from. His fingers began to move across the screen.

 

  
**Freckle-Face McGee  
    Not really. Ilse can get pretty obnoxious around kids her own age. She's practically internet famous on some site she posts her writing on so she's slightly stuck up.**

 

  
    Jean snorted and Marco's cousins turned to give him a weird look.

  
  
_**slightly?** _

**  
**   
**Freckle-Face McGee**   
**Okay, a whole lot but hey, don't hold it against her. She'll warm up to you eventually.**

 

    A few seconds later, a second reply came.

  
  
**Freckle-Face McGee  
    Do you have me as "freckle-face mcgee" on your phone?**

  
  
    Jean's eyes widened and he caught Marco looking over his shoulder.  
  
    "Hey! No peeking!" He shoved himself into the left corner of the back seat.  
  
    "No making out back there!" Marco's mom called out from the driver's seat.  
  
    Jean blushed profusely, but Marco seemed to take it in stride.  
  
    The younger teen quickly typed out a response and then edited the name on his phone.

  
  
**_fine, ill chnge it 2 polo-bodt. gud?_**

  
  
    Marco bit his lip to stop himself from laughing out loud.

  
  
**Freckle-Face  
    Not even my first name? That's rude, Jeannie :((((**

  
  
    Jean did a double take and chose to quickly snatch his friend's phone and read the contact name.  
  
    "'Jeannie Cherrystone'? Are you serious?"  
  
    Now it wasn't just Marco laughing but his cousins joined in as well.  
  
    "You put him in as _that_ , Marc? Oh my god, he sounds like a stripper." Ymir grabbed at her sides as she buckled over in her seat.  
  
    Ilse laughed behind her hand and Samuel had a stupid look on his face as he tried not to laugh too loudly.

    “I’ll change mine to something respectable when you change yours. Deal?” Jean said as he held Marco’s phone in his hand and tried not to let the intense blush on Marco’s face deter him.

   Marco nodded, “Deal.”

* * *

    Once they arrived at the ski lodge, it was like a dream come true for Jean.

 

    "Oh my _god_. I freaking _love_ snowboarding." Jean followed Marco and his cousins over to the counter to get their gear and sign whatever release forms needed.

  
    "You've been snowboarding before?" Marco asked.

  
    "Uh, no, not exactly. I mean, I've been tubing and stuff but I haven't actually snowboarded or anything." Jean got his boots on. "It's just like skateboarding so I'm excited."

  
    Marco buckled his boots and adjusted the collar to his coat. "So you skateboard?"

 

  
    _Tabernak. Why you gotta be so curious? I'm trying to sound badass here, damn._

 

  
    "N-No...I just, I mean, it seems cool and I wanna skateboard but my mom won't let me so..." The thirteen-year-old bowed his head in shame.

 

  
_Now he's gonna think I'm fucking lame._

  
  
    Instead of teasing Jean like he knew his cousins would, Marco simply smiled as he got up with his board underneath one arm.

  
    "I always wanted to skateboard but I'm not exactly coordinated enough for that." Marco confessed.

  
    "Seriously?" Jean's eyes widened with hope.

  
    "Yeah, I kinda suck at that kind of stuff. But Ymir can skateboard, so I was always jealous of her since she looked so cool..."

  
    Suddenly an arm wrapped around Marco's next and brought him down.

  
    "Whatcha gossipin' about? I heard my name somewhere in there." Ymir said, her coat rubbing along Marco's.

  
    "Just telling Jean what a lame-o you are," Marco nudged his cousin with his elbow playfully.

  
    Ymir ruffled his hair and laughed, "Yeah right, you fucking love me, you homo."

 

  
    "That's rich coming from you." The younger teen chuckled.

  
    Jean's eyebrows shot up but he didn't say a word. He simply watched the two exchange playful banter while Samuel and Ilse got their gear on. Once they did, they all made their way outside to the slopes.

  
    "You're good with heights, right?" Marco asked.  
  
    "Uh...I guess? I've been on a plane before so I don't exactly get nervous." Jean laid his board on the snow and buckled his boots onto it.  
  
    "All right, good. 'Cause we're on next." Marco said as he did the same.  
  
    "On what?"  
  
    "On the lift, of course," the freckled teen pointed to the metal seats that seemed as if they were floating in air.

  
  
_You've GOT to be kidding me._

  
    Jean watched as Ymir got on a lift by herself and once she got up high enough, she yelled out in excitement.  
  
    Samuel and Ilse road together and were much more cautious about getting on the lift.  
  
    "It doesn't stop?" Jean asked.  
  
    Marco shook his head. "Nope. So you can't be too slow or you'll miss it."

  
  
_Merde._

 

    Jean neared the lift and stood in front of it until he felt the seat hit the back of his legs, signaling for him to sit. The lift moved slowly enough that both Marco and Jean had time to settle back into the metal seats. Once Jean got comfortable, he looked around.

    “Uh…where’s the bar?”

    Marco looked confused, “What bar?”

    “You know…the thing that goes across your lap so we don’t fall out.”

    The older teen looked at Jean with sympathy. “Um…there isn’t one. We’ll have to jump out at the right time to go down the slope.

    Jean looked down and realized they were suddenly a good twenty feet up in the air. His hand shot out and clenched around the armrest.

    “What if I _fall_?”

    “I thought you were good with heights.”

    “Well _yeah_ but that’s when I know I’m safe and _secure_ , you know, with a seatbelt or a bar and junk.”

     Marco hesitated for about a millisecond before wrapping an arm around Jean’s shoulders. “I won’t let you fall. You’re good, I’ve got you.”

    Jean silently wondered if Marco could feel his strong heartbeat. It was relatively cold but Jean’s face heat up so much that it felt a few degrees warmer than it actually was.

 

    _Holy fuck, this is embarrassing. I’m such a little pissbaby, oh my god._

    The two teens sat together in silence, not exactly knowing what to say. But the lift was a relatively short trip. Soon enough, Marco was motioning for Jean to get ready to jump.

    “Okay, so once we get over there,” the freckled teen pointed to what seemed like the “end” of the lift, “We have to jump. Sound good?”

    The younger teen just nodded, not trusting his voice. So within seconds, Marco and Jean moved closer to the edge of their seats and jumped off.

    If you asked Jean, he’d tell you he didn’t scream. Honest, he didn’t. He just yelled…like a man. Yeah, a battle cry of sorts. And Marco didn’t laugh because Jean screamed. Nope, not at all.

 

    “Are you okay?” Marco asked with an amused look on his face.

 

    “Y-Yeah…” Jean tried to calm down his rapidly beating heart.

 

    Marco smiled widely, reached up and brought his goggles down to cover his eyes. “Awesome, let’s get started, yeah?” He placed his foot on his board and leaned forward, letting gravity do the rest.

     Jean’s eyes widened as he watched his friend slide down the slope with ease.

 

    _Damn…he’s pretty cool._ The two-tone haired teen quickly shook his head to clear his thoughts. He settled his own goggles over his face and positioned his board at the tip of the slope. _I can do that no problem._

 

    Without a second thought, Jean leaned his body forward and soon he was sliding down the slope. He felt the cold wind hit his face, which stung his cheeks. But he felt good, he felt…free, if that even makes sense.

    Marco was waiting halfway down the slope for Jean. “Hey, doing pretty good for your first time!” He called out.

    Jean smiled wide, “Hell yeah!!!”

 

    He then glanced down and a thought crossed his mind.  
  
    “Fuck! Wait, how do I stop!?” He shouted frantically as the distance between him and Marco got smaller.

    “Shoot! Uh, turn!” The freckled teen responded.

    “How!?”

    Marco hopped a bit and turned his board from vertical to horizontal. “Like this! And then tilt back!!”

 

    _Like that helps!!_ Jean thought but did as Marco told. He quickly shifted his body, nearly falling on his face. _Now…lean back._

 

    Jean tilted the board up but instead of successfully stopping the board he fell back on his ass.

 

    “ _Calisse_ ,” Jean swore as his back met the hardened snow.

 

    Marco dislodged his foot from the board and ran over to Jean. “Are you okay!?”

    The younger teen didn’t even attempt to sit up. “Why the fuck is this snow so hard? Jesus Christ…”

    “Ah, yeah, it’s ideal for boarding. Not so much for falling,” the freckled teen said as he offered a hand to help Jean up.

    Jean waited a few moments before taking the hand and using it to pull himself up. Marco began to dust off the snow from Jean’s back and his hand brushed against his lower backside.

 

    “Whoawhoawhoa!” Jean stumbled back.

    “S-Sorry, I didn’t mean- I just wanted to dust off the snow…” Marco snapped his hand back to his side. “I’m sorry if I’m really touchy-feely, I just get affectionate with friends, and well, I just feel really comfortable around you in general and I know that’s kind of weird since we’re still practically strangers and we don’t really talk when Eren’s around, but you’re like the little brother I never had and…argh,” Marco runs a hand through his hair in frustration. “Sorry, I’m just rambling now.”

    Jean stood there, not really knowing what to say, nor what to think. He simply stared at Marco, trying to process what the older teen had said. He looked down at his gloved hands and picked at the snow stuck on the fabric.

    “You’re not rambling. I…I suck majorly at communicating but you…you don’t. I mean, you know exactly how to express yourself and I can’t. I get uncomfortable a lot and you probably think it’s ‘cause I hate you, but I don’t.” Jean buried his face into the collar of his coat. “I’m not used to…this. Like…fuck, just, people caring and stuff. The only one who gives a damn is my _mother_. I’m just a freak with long hair and braces. There’s no reason why you should like me as a friend, much less a brother. Hell, Eren doesn’t.” He avoided making eye contact with Marco, scared he’d see some hint of disgust on his face. “I just…I don’t want to get comfortable just to…lose it.”

 

   The wind picked up and Jean winced as small ice particles scratched against his face.

 

    Marco mumbled something. Jean would have missed it if the wind hadn’t stopped momentarily.

 

    “I’m not going anywhere.”     

 

    Jean’s bangs blew into his face, thus obstructing his view of Marco’s face.

 

    “Eren texted me yesterday, asking me if I wanted to hang out.” Marco drew closer. “He said you were going to a friend’s house to ‘watch movies’.” The seven-inch height difference suddenly seemed bigger than it was.

    “Sor—”

    The freckled teen took his glove off and settled his hand on Jean’s head. He ruffled the boy’s hair and smiled softly. “I was wondering why you’d lie but then…with everything you said, I realized something.”

 

    _I realized you don’t want to lose whatever bit of happiness you have._

 

    Marco hadn’t said it, but Jean knew what he was thinking. And he was right.

 

    “So I’m not going anywhere. Even if it pisses Eren off, I’ll come over and play video games whenever you want. When you’re bored, I’ll send you funny pictures of those memes you like. I’ll make sure you’re not lonely, Jean.”

 

    Jean hadn’t realized he had leaned into Marco’s hand. The hair ruffling had turned into gentle caresses, but nothing that made Jean uncomfortable. In fact, it felt…soothing.

 

    “Is that okay?” 

    The younger teen snapped out of his thoughts and tried to remember what Marco had been talking about.

    “Uh, y-yeah,” Jean’s voice cracked and he began to blush profusely.

 

   “Okay,” Marco slowly pulled his hand back. “Okay.”

 

    Jean felt his heart swell.

    The past year fighting with Eren hadn’t given him this feeling. In fact, his stepbrother’s cold words usually left him with an empty feeling in his stomach. So he wasn’t sure if this is what having a kind older brother felt like. He wasn’t sure if it was sibling endearment or something else. But Jean realized he didn’t care. It made him feel safe, and warm and wanted.

 

    It made him feel _loved._


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jean plays maplestory like the dweeb he is and accidentally ends up being in a relationship???
> 
> That and whoa, he's hella gay for Marco

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM TRASHHHHHH
> 
> I HAVENT UPDATED IN A MONTH  
> WHAT THE CRAP IS WRONG WITH ME
> 
> okok so i've been busy with AP exams and preparing for college and junk but w/e i should've updated sooner :(((
> 
> either way, HERE IT ISSSS
> 
> P.S. I know absolutely nothing about maplestory. any details i've included have come from my best friend and maplestory wiki. so dont judge me TOO much

   "You're _what_?"  
  
    Marco put his index finger to his lips in an attempt to get Jean to lower his voice. "Eren is starting to get suspicious. He said I don't hang out with him anymore and I kind of feel guilty so...I'll be going out with the guys tonight."  
  
    Jean pouted, "But today was supposed to be our movie marathon day..."  
  
    The older teen frowned, "I know, I'm sorry." He quickly glanced over his shoulder to make sure Eren and his friends were still downstairs. Marco settled a hand on Jean's flippy hair. "Don't worry, we can do it another day. Mid-winter recess is coming up, so we can do it then."  
  
    "Whatever." Jean swatted Marco's hand away and went back to his room.  
  
    He felt betrayed. Marco had promised to hang out with him. The weather was finally nice enough for Eren to go out with his friends but now he was taking Marco along. Jean would be alone...again.  
  
    The thirteen-year-old settled into his swivel chair in front of his desktop and started it up. At least he could entertain himself with the internet. _At least._  
  
    He quickly logged into his account to play a game...one he'd never admit to playing. Maplestory. A chat box opened up.  
  
  
    **wolfboy21897 : _hey, havent seen u here l8ly  
_** _  
_  
Jean noticed it was one of the guys he used to play online with. He quickly typed out a response and sent it.  
  
  
    **mememasterjean : yea bin busy. wutz up?**   
  
    ** wolfboy21897: _nothin much, jus playin w/ some others. up for a trip thru the mine?  
_** **  
  
**Jean smirked.  
  
  
 ** mememasterjean : u kno it. add me 2 ur party  
  
    wolfboy21897: _kk  
_**  
  
    Jean spent the next few hours playing alongside his friend, who he only knew by his username, wolfboy21897. Together they fought off monsters simultaneously while desperately eating at the health packets.  
  
  
 ** mememasterjean: yo we need a mage asap  
**  
  
    The thirteen-year-old waited for a response as he had his avatar wield his sword against the spiders.  
  
  
 ** wolfboy21897: _dont wanna  
_**  
  
    "What the _fuck_!?" Jean slammed the keyboard as a hoard of big spiders came at him. "Dude, we are _dying_!"  
  
    Jean did his best to keep his party alive but his health bar was dangerously low. Just as he fought off a group of spiders a notification appeared on his screen. He clicked on the clear box and a present box appeared.  
  
  
    It was a gift from his wolfboy friend.  
  
    Jean's eyebrows shot up at the gift's contents.  
  
  
 ** mememasterjean**: **how the FUCK did u find this?  
**  
  
    He used the potion, nonetheless, which gave him unlimited health for the rest of the conquest.  
  
  
 ** wolfboy21897: _i hav my ways  
_**  
  
    It was a vague response but Jean wasn't necessarily upset about it. I mean, the guy just gave him a potion worth at _least_ a couple million mesos, the online game currency.  
  
  
 ** wolfboy21897: _so its a yes?  
_**  
  
    Jean quirked an eyebrow. _Is he seriously asking me if I'm gonna accept it? I'd be a shithead if I didn't!  
_ _  
_  
 ** mememasterjean: duh  
**  
  
    He wasn't gonna let it go to waste. So Jean cracked his fingers and stepped up his game. He ditched the shield he had equipped, seeing as how useless it was now, and exchanged it for a bow he had wasting away in his inventory.  
  
    Needless to say, it's like having Captain America on your team. Nothing could touch him, and even if it did, nothing happened. He was impenetrable. And with his friend's amazing fighting skills, they both conquered the land and killed off all the monsters.  
  
    Jean leaned back in his chair as the victory notification appeared on his screen.  
  
  
 ** wolfboy21897: _1/20/12 <3  
_**  
  
    A quizzical look appeared on Jean's face.  
  
  
    **mememasterjean : 2day special?**  
  
    **wolfboy21897 _:_ _duh, ive liked u since we first startd playing 2gether  
_**  
  
    Jean's eyes seemed to pop out of his head. "What the fuck!?"  
  
    He quickly typed out a response, wondering what his online buddy was even talking about.  
  
  
 ** mememasterjean: u like me?  
  
    wolfboy21897: _...ofc i do. or else I wouldnt hav asked u out  
_**  
  
    Jean tipped his swivel chair forward and nearly lost balance as he read what was on the screen. Now he was angry because _what the actual fuck is going on?  
_  
 **  
mememasterjean: dude idk wut the fuck ur talkin bout  
**  
  
    "Wolfboy" took longer to reply this time. Jean saw he had been typing but nothing had been sent. Jean hadn't realized how hard his heart had been thumping against his chest.  
  
    This had to all be a mistake, right? No one could possibly like Jean in _that_ way. Much less a _dude_. That's, like, gay...right?  
  
    Jean's thoughts dissipated once he got a notification in the chat window.  
  
  
 ** wolfboy21897: _i sent u tht potion, rmmbr?_  
  
     mememasterjean: yea?  
  
    wolfboy21897: _u...srsly dont kno?  
_** _  
  
_Jean would be lying if he said he did. He wracked at his brain to try and remember what gift-giving usually meant in games. All he could think of was an establishment of camaraderie. And that potion? He had never seen something like that before. He had thought it was only just a rumor.  
  
  
 ** mememasterjean: no  
  
**  
    The thirteen-year-old hated feeling ignorant. So admitting that he didn't know something was a blow to his already-low ego.  
  
  
 ** wolfboy21897: _its an in game proposal  
_**  
 _  
Oh. My. GOD!!!  
_  
  
    The golden-eyed teen looked at his computer screen in horror.  
  
 **  
mememasterjean: shakxbwkxjaksnj  
  
    wolfboy21897: _:(_  
  
     mememasterjean: sry i ddnt kno...  
  
    wolfboy21897: _nah its k. u havent been on much so its my bad  
_**  
  
    Suddenly Jean felt like a douchebag.  
  
  
    **mememasterjean : that potion prbly cost u like a jillion mesos** **  
  
wolfboy21897: _its no bigE. i like u so its k  
_**  
  
    Jean felt his hands sweat, he could practically feel the awkwardness building up. His fingers lingered over his keyboard and hesitated before typing out his response.  
  
 **  
mememasterjean: im not gay  
**  
  
    Never in a million years did he think he'd have to turn anyone down. Girls didn't seem interested in him but he never thought he'd appeal to _guys_. That was just...not him.  
  
 **  
wolfboy21897: _me neither  
_**  
  
    That pissed Jean off even more. Was this guy just pulling his leg then? Pretending to be into him or something? Or maybe he thought he was a girl. He didn't _look_ like a girl...did he?  
  
 **  
mememasterjean: well im not a girl  
  
    wolfboy21897: _i know. im bi_  
  
     mememasterjean: how do u kno?  
  
    wolfboy21897: _well how do YOU know youre straight?  
_**  
  
    Jean glared at his computer screen. "Because I just do, dumbass. Jesus..." He typed out his reply just as he said it.  
  
  
 ** wolfboy21897: _ever tried kissing a guy?  
_  
**  
    The teen felt a blush creep up on the back of his neck. He'd never kissed a girl before, much less a guy.  
  
  
 ** mememasterjean: no  
  
    wolfboy21897: _then youll never know whether u dont like it or not  
_**  
  
    Just the thought of kissing another guy made Jean cringe at the thought. But a brief image of a familiar freckled teen entered his imagination. He imagined pressing his lips against those belonging to the freckled figure. Jean felt his throat tighten and he licked his lips.  
  
    "What the hell!?" He quickly shook his head. "Don't imagine stupid shit, Christ."  
  
    He angrily jabbed at the keyboard and told his bisexual friend he had chores to do so he'd have to leave. It was an obvious lie but it was better than saying: "Hey, your gay talk is making me think weird things. Go away."  
  
    Jean logged off of Maplestory and leaned back in his chair. He couldn't believe what had just happened to him. Did he seriously just have a boyfriend for like fifteen minutes?  
  
    He threw his head back and rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands.  
  
    What was with "wolfboy" anyway? Jean had seen the way he dressed his avatar. He had the total "scene" thing going on, which wasn't really Jean's style, but he could appreciate it nonetheless. It was around the same ballpark as the total punk-rocker look he tried pulling off. Regardless, "wolfboy" was a pretty fun guy. Why would he even /think/ about going out with Jean? He even straight up said he _liked_ him. Why the fuck would he think that?  
  
    Jean looked at his reflection on his darkened computer screen. He had annoying-ass braces that he'd had since he was eleven. He had unruly hair that he tried growing out into a cool fringe, which just made him look like a girly mushroom, just like his mom said. His ears were huge as fuck, which was partially the reason why he grew out his hair in the first place. And he even had to wear glasses in class sometimes to see the board. Jean was the epitome of a dweeb, so why would anyone like him? He was surprised Marco was even his friend...  
  
 _Marco.  
_  
    His freckled friend's face appeared in his mind and he remembered imagining his lips on him.  
  
    A shiver crawled up Jean's spine and he leaned forward, waking his computer up from its sleeping mode.  
  
    He opened an incognito tab and bit his lip. Should he really do this? It was stupid but...he was curious. He wondered if what "wolfboy" said was partially true. So he typed in three letters, creating a broad generic term, but a word that would change his dashboard completely.  
  
    Instead of naked women appearing on the browser, a series of undressed men appeared. Multiple thumbnails showed buff men sucking each other off. Other videos were of skinny teenagers fingering themselves. And some...Jean really hoped that was milk dripping down their faces and not what he thought it was.  
  
    So he quickly scrolled down and found the least sketchy video in the archive. He clicked on it and the second the video started playing he thanked his lucky stars that he had his headphones on.  
  
    A series of loud moans entered his ears. They weren't the type of moans he was used to hearing. They weren't high-pitched whines that the female porn stars would usually make. No, these were baritone groans that drew out into sloppy kisses and wet noises.  
  
    Jean felt his heartbeat speed up rapidly and his pants may have even gotten tighter, but his eyes focused on the two well-built college boys fucking the life out of each other. He should be freaked out, and a part of him is, but more than anything, it was...captivating.  
  
    He had been masturbating regularly since he hit puberty about a year ago. Well, he had just begun growing and his voice was definitely not any deeper, but his urges down south were most definitely evident. So he's been watching the same type of porn for a year and this...this was different. This was...raw.  
  
    His hand traveled down to his pants and he squeezed his erection through his clothes. Maybe just one time wouldn't hurt. It didn't mean anything. It was just the fucking. Yeah...it didn't mean he was gay. His hand tightened around the tent forming in his jeans. Jean's finger inched towards the button and just as they made contact, a soft knock came at his door.  
  
    Jean nearly jumped five feet in the air. He frantically grasped the mouse and clicked the red button in the upper left hand corner of his browser.  
  
    "Y-Yeah?" He called out.  
  
    "It's me," a familiar voice said softly on the other side of the door.  
  
 _Shitfuckshitshitshitfuck._  
  
    Jean glanced down at his pants and cursed silently at his teenage hormones. He looked around for something he could hide his erection with but found nothing. The teen could just hope his skinny jeans were tight enough to hide his hard-on.  
  
    He scrambled towards the door and opened it.  
  
    "Marco, w-what are you doing up here?" He noticed his voice cracked slightly.  
  
    The freckled teen rubbed his neck sheepishly, "Uh, I just...I just wanted to apologize for canceling our plans at the last minute. The guys are getting ready to leave so I thought I'd come up and say bye while I could..."  
  
    _Yeah, right before I fucking jerked it to a pair of homos._  
  
    "No problem, it's fine, really. I'm over it." Jean barely kept his bedroom door open between him and Marco. He restlessly shifted from foot to foot. "Have fun with my prick of a stepbrother and uh, don't drink and drive?"  
  
    Marco smiled, "Jean, I only have my permit."  
  
    "R-Right, whatever then, my bad. I'm not your fucking mom. Just, yeah, have fun with your friends."  
  
    "But you're my friend too, Jean."  
  
    Jean opened his door wider so he could shove Marco playfully. "Stop being such a homo. Go and spread your preppy little wings. Satisfy them so we can hang out again without Eren bitching about you not being around."  
  
    Marco cocked his head to the side and extended a hand through the crack between the door and the wall. He ruffled Jean's hair, "Don't have too much fun without me."  
  
    Jean rolled his eyes, "I'm playing video games all day. Nothing you're missing out on."  
  
    "Okay, okay, I got it. I'll see you next week?" Marco said as he brought his hand back to his side.  
  
    The younger teen shrugged, "Sure, yeah."  
  
    Marco smiled wide, "Good, okay. I'll text you later. Er...good night?"  
  
    Jean shoved him once more for good measure, which had Marco giggling. "Get outta here, loser."  
  
    "I know, I know, leaving right now." The freckled teen chuckled silently as he made his way to the bathroom, clearly as an excuse for ditching the guys downstairs.  
  
    Jean closed his bedroom door and leaned against it. He let out a heavy breath and looked down at the tent in his pants, which seemed bigger than before.  
  
    He'd have to take care of that asap.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ANNNNND now we can move onto some heavy duty stuff that will be present in subsequent chapters.
> 
> HOWEVER, I actually wanted to let everyone know something important. I mentioned this in a tumblr post (tagged fic: dylm, fyi) that I won't be writing anything smutty or explicit with 13 year old Jean only because that would probably make most of you uncomfortable. BUT, I'll wait until I age him up until he's 15 to start anything serious. And yeah, not much of a difference, but 15 is closer to my age now so I feel like it's more acceptable? idk honestly, I just figured it's better than having Jean be wayyyy underage, ya know?
> 
> Either way, if you have any comments or concerns, feel free to comment below or message me at mementoreimori.tumblr.com


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's really hard for Jean to open up to people. That's just a fact of life. Just as water is wet and all that. 
> 
> So the fact that Marco is the only one who can push past all those barriers...well, it's only gotta mean one thing, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I should apologize for this chapter ahead of time. Not only is it a month late but it's also cute and heartbreaking as heck. I am so sorry.
> 
> I swear this chapter started as funny like LOL BLATANTLY CANADIAN JEAN
> 
> BUT hey, at least we have about 2 or 3 more chapters until the time skip, WOO!!!

    Jean slammed his hands against the coffee table, "CALISSE D'EQUIPE DE MARDE!"  
  
    His mother poked her head out of the kitchen and shot him a look, "Jean Pierre, watch your tongue!"

    Jean ran a frustrated hand through his messy hair. Hockey never failed to get him worked up. If he and Eren usually had short fuses on normal days, well it was even worse when they watched hockey. In fact, Eren never used to like hockey until he moved in with Jean. Now he was almost as obsessed with it as the Canadian teen was, which Jean partially resented.

  
    "They had a clear shot! How can they screw that up!?"  
  
  
  
    Eren snorted beside him, "American teams are way better than your shitty teams."  
  
  
  
    The thirteen-year-old glared at him, "Shut up. The Canadiens are gonna win no problem. They're just having a rough start."  
  
  
  
    Eren rolled his eyes and stuffed his mouth with some chicken wings. "Whatever. Five bucks says your _Canadiens_ won't even make it to the playoffs."  
  
  
  
    "I could say the same about the Islanders," Jean said sassily.  
  
  
  
    "Yeah well, at least the Rangers can."  
  
  
  
    Jean rolled his eyes at his stepbrother, "How many times have they won the Stanley Cup?”

 

    “Four.”

 

    “How many times have the Islanders won?”

 

    “…Four.”

 

    Jean looked smug, “The Canadiens? Yeah, they’ve won the Cup _twenty-four_ times. Suck it, asshole.”  
  
  
  
    The older teen narrowed his eyes and stuck up the middle finger. Fortunately, or unfortunately, Jean didn't have time to respond since his phone went off.  
  
  
  
    The teen flipped open his phone, "Yeah?"  
  
  
  
    " _Jean? Hey, it's Marco. Sorry, I know it's late, I just...are you free tomorrow?_ "  
  
  
  
    Jean felt his heart jump up to his throat. "Uh, y-yeah, I am, why?"  
  
  
  
    Marco sighed a breath of relief, " _Okay, cool, I just kind of forgot that I needed to get something at the mall and wanted to know if you wanted come, so..."_

 

    “Definitely!” Jean coughed awkwardly and tried not to sound too excited. “I mean, yeah, sure, I’ll go.”

 

    _“Great! Okay, so I’ll meet you there at around noon, sound good?”_

    “That’s good with me,” the two-toned teen tried to sound at nonchalant as he could to no avail.

 

_“Perfect! See you then!”_

 

    Jean closed his shitty little flip phone and didn’t even realize he had missed the hockey team’s first goal. He simply stared blankly at the TV.

 

    “Ew, was that a chick?”

 

    The teen sputtered, “W-What?”

 

    “You have a stupid ass smile on your face. It was a girl, wasn’t it?” Eren said teasingly.

 

    “No!” Jean denied.

 

    “Whatever, bro. She ain’t gonna suck your little dick anyway.”

 

    “ _Trou de cul._ ” Jean muttered under his breath.

 

    “I heard that!” His mother called out from the kitchen.

 

    The thirteen-year-old huffed and sat back in his seat as he watched his favorite hockey team get pummeled in the second period. But hey, at least he had a date with Marco.

 

* * *

 

    Not a date! It was most definitely _not_ a date.

 

    Jean didn’t even know why he had thought that.

 

    _Ugh, no, that was gay. My bad._ He thought to himself as he buried his nose in the collar of his hoodie. He had to remind himself to separate Marco from those… _things_ he saw online the other day. It had him thinking weird ass thoughts.

 

    Which was important since he was currently waiting for Marco by the food court at the mall. He had literally spent _hours_ trying to find the right clothes to wear. It was the first time Marco had invited him out—not a date!—besides the time they went snowboarding. Actually, as he thought about it, it was his first time being in a public place with Marco since then.

 

    Thus, Jean was torn on which clothes he should wear: either his black skinny jeans and band t-shirt or…his _other_ black skinny jeans and some t-shirt he got at Hot Topic. Not that it’d make a difference, considering the fact that he wore the same hoodie all the time. Hey, it was his favorite one with Jack Skellington on it, no judging!

 

    So there he was, decked out in black from head to toe, waiting for his freckled friend. Within minutes, Jean found the very person he was looking for, sporting a light yellow polo with ironed khakis. Jean squinted as if the color itself was too bright for his hardcore image.

 

    “You look like a fucking baby chick,” Jean pushed himself off the wall he had been leaning on.

 

    Marco smiled, “Hello to you too, Jean. Sorry I’m late, Ymir was still sleeping but she was my only ride here so I had to get her up.”

 

    Jean shrugged, “Nah, it’s all right. I didn’t have anything to do, so I just figured I’d come early.”

 

    Which was a total lie. The thirteen-year-old had practically badgered his mom to drive him at least half an hour early to the mall before Eren could wake up. Well that and he had been overly excited about spending time with Marco.

 

    “Well, that’s good then. So is there anywhere you want to go?” Marco asked.

 

    “Not really. I mean, you said you needed to get something, right?”

 

    The freckled teen smiled nervously, “I don’t have to get it right now. We can just do what you want to do first.”

 

    Jean stared at his friend suspiciously but didn’t push any further. “Well…okay then. Uh, can we go to Hot Topic?”

 

    Marco nodded, “Of course!

 

    So both teens made their way over to the side of the mall not many ventured to. Right between the Vans store and Zumiez was Jean’s favorite store: Hot Topic.

 

    As soon as they walked in their ears were bombarded with loud screamo music and their eyes had to adjust to the dim lighting.

 

    “Wow,” was the only thing Marco could say.

 

    “What is it?” Jean asked as he went over to the skinny jean section.

 

    “Nothing really. I just…haven’t been here before. It’s, uh, a bit different from what I’m used to.”

 

    Jean smirked, “I bet. Ain’t no Hollister, huh?”

 

    Marco shook his head as his eyes scanned over the black shirts with various logos on them.  "Ooh! This Batman shirt looks nice." Marco exclaimed as he pointed up at a rack.  
  
  
  
    Jean turned and glanced, "Yeah, super hero shirts are pretty awesome here. Eren got an Avengers shirt here last time we came."  
  
  
  
    Marco's eyes widened, "You hang out with Eren?"  
  
  
  
    "N-No, not exactly. We just kinda have to deal with each other whenever my mom drags us to the mall with her. And I mean, he's not exactly prep school material like you are. So yeah, I mean, we like to get shirts here and whatever..."  
  
  
  
    Jean didn't know why, but admitting that he sometimes bonded with the stepbrother he hated so much was a bit humiliating. Though, the freckled teen found it incredibly endearing.  
  
  
  
    "You and Eren have a lot in common. It's a shame he treats you the way he does."  
  
  
  
    "Yeah, well, I can pull my own punches. Especially during game night."  
  
  
  
    "Oh yeah, I heard the Hurricanes won last night."  
  
  
  
    Jean nearly pounced on Marco, "Shh! We don't talk about that. Eren wouldn't stop annoying the fuck out of me about me." He muttered a few French curse words, earning a loud laugh from the teen next to him. "What? Why are you laughing?"  
  
  
  
    The black-haired teen held his stomach as he continued to chuckle, "You're just so...so _Canadian_. It's adorable, really."  
  
  
  
    Jean blushed profusely, "S-Shut up!"  
  
  
  
    "Sorry!" Marco half meant it. "I just keep forgetting you told me you're from Canada. You don't even have an accent. I was so sure French Canadians had _some_ sort of an accent."  
  
  
  
    Jean shrugged, "Well, most do, I guess. I mean, French _is_ everyone's first language up in Quebec."  
  
  
  
    Marco's mouth gaped slightly, "Really!? Even you?"  
  
  
  
    "Uh, yeah? I didn't even know English until I was five. And that was only ‘cause schools in Quebec want people to learn it."  
  
  
  
    "I just imagined little you with a French accent, not speaking English very well. Gosh, that's cute." Marco said with a stupid smile on his face.  
  
  
  
    Jean pouted, "Yeah, well, it was for that reason I got rid of it."  
  
  
  
    Marco's eyebrows shot up, "You got _rid_ of it? How?"  
  
  
  
    The thirteen-year-old sighed and shoved his hands into his pockets, immediately losing interest in whatever he was looking at. He didn't answer right away, but contemplated on what to say. Should he say anything? Somehow, he ended up wandering towards the exit with Marco in tow.  
  
  
  
    Marco bit his lip. _Maybe I shouldn't have asked. Now he's upset...I shouldn't have pried. Crap._  
  
  
  
    They silently walked over to a lounge area by the escalators. Jean settled himself on one of the benches and just when Marco was getting ready to apologize, Jean opened his mouth.  
  
  
  
    "My dad...my real dad was always on and off with my mom. They never really had a stable relationship." Jean shoved his nose into the collar of his oversized hoodie. "So by the time I was born, sometimes he would live with us, sometimes he wouldn't. I grew up in Montreal with my mom but my dad moved down to Toronto, which is all the way over in another province. But when I was eight, right before he moved down, he asked if I wanted to live with him...so I did. I left my mom and even though my English was terrible, I went to school with all native English speakers. I got teased a lot since I had an accent and it pissed me the hell off. Quebec wasn't like that. So it was weird and scary and I hated it. But my dad just told me to suck it up and learn English." Jean's hands balled up into fists. "So I did. I focused on sounding 'normal' and losing the accent. But...it still didn't feel right. I couldn't visit my mom any time I wanted because we were so far away. I couldn't tell her that I hated my school, that I had no friends, nothing. So when I was eleven, I moved back with her. And then a year later, she got married. And, well, we moved here a year after that since Eren couldn't stand Canada any longer."  
  
  
  
   The two-toned teen slouched further into the bench and attempted to bury his entire face into his hoodie. He wasn't good with talking about his emotions. It was embarrassing. He had never told anyone that story and yet, here he was telling some kid he just met a few months back. What was it about Marco that made him so easy to talk to? It scared Jean, but...at least he had someone to talk to.  
  
  
  
    Marco remained speechless for a few moments, trying to find the right words to say.  
  
  
  
    "You're such an incredible person."  
  
  
  
    Jean felt his ears heat up. "W-What? No, I'm really not. I'm just a...a sad loser with braces who couldn't speak English and has no friends and—"  
  
  
  
    "Jean," Marco's face was suddenly very close to his. "You've been through a lot and yet you've been able to make it through on your own. You're a strong, incredible person. You're not weird. You're just a normal thirteen-year-old. In fact, you're pretty mature for your age, and I respect that so much." Jean mumbled something under his breath, something Marco couldn't quite catch. "What was that?"  
  
  
  
    "You're such a weirdo."  
  
  
  
    Marco looked shocked, "Me? Why?"  
  
  
  
    "I mean, who hangs out with a thirteen-year-old loser like me? Even Eren can't stand me most times but you...you never treat me like a burden. And you compliment me. So you _have_ to be a weirdo!"  
  
  
  
    The teen's words brought an enormous smile to Marco's face, "Jean, you're literally one of the coolest middle schoolers I know. And even though you don't really like yourself very much doesn't mean I feel the same. In fact, I'll just have to like you enough for the both of us. And if that means being weird, then so be it!"  
  
  
  
    Jean's heart rate sped up, just like it did last night when Marco called him. He felt like his heart was going to explode out of his chest.  
  
  
  
 _Oh...oh no. Fuck. Fuckfuckfuck. My hearts doing that thing again. Shiiiiiiiit._  
  
  
  
    "D-Do you really mean that?" The younger teen asked.  
  
  
  
    Marco nodded, "Of course. I wouldn't say it if it weren't true."  
  
  
  
    A heat welled up in Jean's chest. Did this mean Marco liked him like _that_? Like...the way wolfboy had liked him? In the... _gay_ way? Jean wasn't sure if he was okay with that. It hadn't been long since he's been introduced to the idea of guys boning each other but...if it was Marco, then he might not mind it as much.  
  
  
  
    Jean's eyes snapped back into focus and he saw Marco waving a hand in front of his face.  
  
  
  
    "Hey, are you okay?" A concerned look appeared on the freckled teen's face.  
  
  
  
    Jean unintentionally backed away, feeling his heart beating erratically again. "Uh, y-yeah, totally fine! Just thinking things..."  
  
  
  
    "Oh, okay then. Well, are you fine with walking some more? I was thinking about getting the stuff I need soon."  
  
  
  
    "Sure, yeah, that's good. Let's go." Jean hopped up from his seat and followed Marco to what he considered the 'girly' side of the mall. Right next to the Victoria's Secret (he had gone in with his mom ONCE and vowed never to go in again) was just the store Marco was looking for: Bath and Body Works.  
  
  
  
    "Dude... _dude_."  
  
  
  
    Marco glanced at Jean with a quizzical look on his face. "What?"  
  
  
  
    "You're getting like, cream and stuff?"  
  
  
  
    The older teen shrugged, "Yeah, I guess? I haven't really figured it out yet."  
  
  
  
 _I don't know why I ever thought you were straight. Jesus Christ._  
  
  
  
    They walked in and various sweet scents invaded Jean's nostrils.  
  
  
  
    "What the HELL!? This smells like my mother's shampoo, ugh."  
  
  
  
    Marco followed a particular scent and stood in front of various Cherry Blossom products. He tried smelling a sample of the lotion and smiled. "This smells beautiful. Here, smell it."  He tilted the bottle down so Jean could try it.  
  
  
  
    The thirteen-year-old made a face. "It smells like a chick."  
  
  
  
    Marco turned the bottle over to look at the price and nonchalantly said: "Well, yeah, I mean, I'm getting it for my girlfriend."  
  
  
  
    Jean suddenly felt like someone punched him in the gut.  
  
  
  
    "Wait...what?"  
  
  
  
    "Hm? Oh, yeah, I forgot it's almost Valentine's day so I have to get something for her or she'll get pretty mad," Marco chuckled lightly before moving on to another product.  
  
  
  
    Jean felt like he couldn't breathe. His eyesight went blurry and it almost felt like he wasn't really there. As if nothing was real. It couldn't be. Marco never said anything about a girlfriend. When did he have time to get one? He'd been hanging out with Jean a lot...Was it after the vacation when he couldn't hang out as much? But...but he said he _liked_ Jean. He said he meant...  
  
  
  
    _You're fucking stupid, Jean. Of course that's not what he meant. He's not a faggot. You dumbass. You thought he like-liked you. And you were actually considering it too._ _  
  
  
  
_"Fucking stupid," Jean whispered to himself.  
  
  
  
    "What was that?" Marco asked.  
  
  
  
    "Uh, nothing. It...it was nothing." _I can't breathe._ "I just forgot I...have homework to do. Yeah, I need to get it done by tomorrow and I totally forgot."  
  
  
  
    "Oh, I'm sorry. Do you need a ride home? I'll call Ymir so she can—"  
  
  
  
    "I'm fine," Jean cut him off. "I can walk."  
  
  
  
    "But it's pretty far," Marco said with a worried expression.  
  
  
  
    Jean's ears began to ring; Marco's voice became muffled by the various sounds overloading Jean's ears. He needed to get out. He couldn't breathe, or hear, it was all too much.  
  
  
  
    "I-I have to go. Bye," he said before turning around and practically sprinting out of the store.  
  
  
  
    He speed walked until finally he made it to the mall exit. He pushed open the door and fresh air hit his lungs.  
  
  
  
    And suddenly, he felt very angry.  
  
  
  
    He shoved his hand into his jean pocket and pulled out his headphones, connecting them quickly to his iPod, he shoved the earbuds into his ears and wasted no time in blasting heavy music into them.  
  
  
  
    Jean went wherever his feet carried him, not caring where he was going. The music numbing his senses. He didn't want to feel anything. He just wanted to _leave._  
  
  
  
    So he walked. And walked. And surprisingly, he found his way home. His converse shoes were making his feet hurt, but it was better than the pain he felt in his chest.  
  
  
  
    "Where'd you go, loser?" Eren greeted him once he stepped through the door.  
  
  
  
    Jean glanced at him momentarily, his redden eyes betraying his every thought. This caught Eren off guard.  
  
  
  
    "Whoa, have you been cryi—?"  
  
  
  
    The thirteen-year-old ran up the stairs and shut himself up in his room. No, he wasn't. He couldn't cry. There was no reason to.  
  
  
  
    He leaned against his bedroom door and slid down to the floor, wrapping his arms around his bent knees. He buried his head into his knees and closed his eyes.  
  
  
  
    Why was he so upset? Why did it hurt so much? Why had he thought it was a date? Why did he allow those thoughts to invade his mind? What was _wrong_ with him? Marco had said he liked him...and it was Jean's fault he misunderstood what he meant. It was _his_ fault. _He_ was the fuck up. It was _Jean's_ fault for entertaining weird homo ideas in his head.  
  
  
  
    Jean pulled at his shaggy hair until it hurt. Even then, he tugged a little harder.  
  
  
  
    "Fuck!"  
  
  
  
    _Do I like him? Do I fucking LIKE him. You dumb fuck. You dumbass homo piece of shit. You fucked up. You fucked up so bad._ _  
_  
  
  
He threw his head back to stare up at his ceiling, hitting his head against the door in the process.  
  
  
    "Shit, what am I gonna do now?"

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation:  
> "Calisse d'equipe de marde!" -- "Fucking piece of shit team!"
> 
> "Trou de cul"--"Asshole"
> 
> In other news...hallo...writing this chapter hurt me deep inside. I literally sobbed as I wrote the final few parts. But I promise to make up for it in the next chapter!!!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This crush was driving Jean crazy. What was he going to do? He couldn't handle it. He didn't know how to deal with it...
> 
> Jean was going through some changes. Both voluntarily and involuntarily. 
> 
> He'd have to do something about that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 7700 HITS  
> WHAT THE HECK  
> WHERE DID YOU ALL COME FROM???
> 
> First, I'd like to thank [balliste](http://balliste.tumblr.com/) for this [BEAUTIFUL fanart](http://balliste.tumblr.com/post/90199946159/marco-turned-the-bottle-over-to-look-at-the) of the last chapter
> 
> I literally can't stop looking at it *u*
> 
> ALSO: WARNING!!  
> There's a slightly graphic sex scene at the beginning soooo be careful? Skip the italics? Idk man, just warning all y'all uwu
> 
> Second, if anyone is interested, here is my [tumblr](http://mementoreimori.tumblr.com/) so feel free to send me any questions, messages! I post a bunch of DYLM stuff (mostly ramblings)
> 
> Oh, btw! I'm tracking this fic on tumblr under "fic: dylm". Some have been wondering how to tag it and I usually going by that or just DYLM tbh

     _Jean watched as Marco pressed his lips to his chest, pecking slightly at his nipples before glancing back up and grinning at him._

  
  _"Do you like that?"_

  
_Jean bit his lip, nodding, not trusting his voice._

  
_"What do you want me to do, Jean?" Marco asked as he thumbed at the waistband of Jean's boxers._

  
_The younger teen inhaled sharply as he felt Marco's hand brush against his clothed erection._

  
_"Tell me, Jean, or I won't know what to do."_

  
_A moan escaped Jean's throat, "S-Suck me..."_

  
_Jean's eyes widened when he realized the voice coming from him was a lot deeper than he remembered. When had it changed? It certainly didn't sound like him..._

  
_Marco pulled his boxers down and exposed his throbbing cock to the air. Jean's eyebrows shot up. That was definitely different from what he remembered._

  
_The freckled teen wrapped a hand around him and rubbed his cheek against his cock, "Oh Jean, you're so **big** ." _

  
_Jean felt a shiver crawl up his spine. Fuck, that was sexy. Marco was so sexy, he thought._

  
_He watched as Marco's lips kissed the tip of his large cock and just as he was about to take it into his mouth, Marco frowned._

  
_"You're not Jean", he said._

  
_The younger teen was confused. But he was him. Of course it was him. Who else would it be?_

  
_"I **am** Jean," said the deepened voice. _

  
_Marco shook his head and looked disgusted, "You don't look like Jean." Marco pointed to the side and Jean followed his line of sight._

  
_That was definitely not what he remembered he looked like. He seemed...older? A lot buffer, wider shoulders, shorter hair. It looked like he had gone through puberty. He looked somewhere around Marco’s age._

  
_"You're not Jean," the freckled teen repeated._

  
_"But I am!" Jean called out. Except, this time, it was his regular voice. His high-pitched voice was back. He clamped a hand to his throat, confused as to why it changed again._

  
_Marco looked disgusted. He glanced down and backed away._

  
_Jean's hand flew to cover himself, realizing his body had shrunk. This was his real body. His skinny, pale, disgusting body. Of course Marco wouldn't want to fuck him. He was undesirable._

  
_Marco looked down at him and made a face, "I don't know what I was thinking. I don't even like guys."_

  
_Jean's heart was beating rapidly and he felt so confused. What the fuck was happening? Why was Marco saying this? What was going ON!?_

  
_"You actually thought I liked you. Pathetic."_

  
_"You're thirteen. I'm out of your league."_

  
_"You don't even have a chan—"_

_  
_ Jean bolted up from his bed with a scream.

  
    He quickly glanced around his room and made sure that's where he was. No mirror. No Marco. Just him.

  
    He felt his face and his hair. It was definitely him. He hadn't changed.

  
    The teen panted heavily and tried to settle his heart down from his nightmare. He shifted slightly and felt something sticky in his boxers. He lifted his sheets to check and as soon as her saw the splatter of thick white across his lower abdomen, he sighed.

  
    "Fuck."

  
    Jean threw his head back onto his bed and cursed the dream he had just had.

  
    It was the third night in a row that he had had that type of dream. With Marco. In compromising positions. And each time Jean hadn't been himself. At least, it _was_ him, just in a different form. Sometimes he was Marco's age; sometimes he was older, buffer, _manlier._ And sometimes…he was a girl.

  
    Jean shook his head. He really had to stop watching porn before bed. It was fucking with his head. Especially with his thoughts of his friend.

  
    Nonetheless, he got up and walked out of his bedroom and towards the bathroom down the hall. Hopefully his scream hadn't woken anyone up, so he could at least wash his underwear with minimal embarrassment.

  
    He entered the bathroom and quickly shimmied out of his boxers and dumped them into the sink, running the water over them.

  
    Jean felt dirty. Not so much for the dreams but more for of _who_ he had dreamt about.

  
    The teen was slowly coming to terms with the fact that yeah, he liked a dude. A dude who just so happened to be his stepbrother's friend, who was also _his_ friend. A dude who had a _girlfriend_. For the first few days, he didn't want to accept it. He fought the thoughts that came into his head. He ignored the beats his heart skipped whenever Marco texted him. He didn't want to like Marco like that. But it happened. It happened and here he was, dreaming about _fucking_ the guy.

  
    _I'm so screwed up,_ he thought to himself.

  
   So he felt guilty about it. About liking the one person he couldn't have. The one person he _shouldn't_ like. And that's why he ignored his texts.

  
    Day after day Marco would text him, asking him how he was, if he got to finish his homework, if he was busy, if Eren was out of the house, if he wanted to hang out. And every time he got a text, Jean felt like responding: "Why don't you just hang out with your girlfriend?" He was bitter, and angry, and _hurt_. He just wanted to stop liking Marco. He didn't need this. He didn't need any of it.

  
    Jean was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he hadn't heard the door open and his stepbrother walk in.

  
    The two teens stood there, awkwardly staring at each other, neither wanting to break the silence.

 

    Eren rubbed at his eyes and groaned, "The _last_ thing I wanted to see was your dick. GOD!!"

  
    Jean pulled his shirt down to cover his precious parts, "You're the one who walked in without knocking!!"

  
    "Yeah, because it's my damn house and I don't exactly go around expecting my creepy little stepbrother to be washing his cum-covered underwear!"

  
    The thirteen-year-old felt his entire face heat up, "H-How do you know I'm—"

  
    Eren rolled his eyes, "You think you're the only little shit going through puberty? I'm not a dumbass." He sighed and turned to walk back out of the bathroom. "Warm water works the best."

  
    Jean's eyes widened and his mouth gaped, speechless. Before he could even ask what the hell just happened, Eren dashed for his room, saving them both the extra embarrassment.

  
  
    _Fuck, now my asshole stepbrother knows I creamed my pants. Great._

* * *

    He needed a way to stop the wet dreams.

 

    He tried giving up porn, but his little hormonal self couldn’t last a day.

 

    He tried listening to music, which ended up just turning the wet dreams into corny daydreams about Marco. About holding his hand, telling him he liked him… _kissing_ him. All the things those sappy love songs were about.

 

    Jean sighed as he shoved his hands into his pockets. What could he do? He needed to just _get it out_ somehow. Get out his frustration, his feelings for his freckled friend, his uneasiness about…everything. But how? How could he do it?

 

    The teen had been walking home from school and just as he crossed the street he walked by a pharmacy. He shrugged, figured he could use an extra pack of gum so he walked in. And as he walked up the aisles, looking for miscellaneous snacks he could eat his feelings into, he came across the answer to all his problems.

 

    His eyes lit up, _Jackpot._

 

* * *

    Jean leaned against the counter and kept his eyes shut. The second he looked in the mirror, it was over. It was no turning back. He’d have to accept what happened.

 

    _Stop being a little pussy, Jean. This is what you wanted, don’t wuss out now. You can do this. In three…two…one!_  


    The thirteen-year-old glanced up and looked straight in the mirror. His jaw dropped opened.

 

    Black hair. He finally had black hair. And it didn’t look stupid!! Black hair, no tinge of blue, no brown, just straight up black.

 

    “Fuck yeah!!” Jean fist pumped the air.

 

    “Jean? Is that you?” The teen heard his mother call from downstairs.

 

    _Shit!! She’s home already, fuckkk._ He hadn’t thought about what his mother would say. He looked around for a beanie to cover his hair with but the only thing within reach was a blackened towel, from the dye, and an old t-shirt. He sighed. Time to meet his fate.

 

    “Mon coeur? Where are you?” His mother’s footsteps could be heard coming up the stairs.

 

    _That’s it, I’m dead. This is how it ends. Fuck, I knew this was a bad idea._

 

    “I’m in here,” Jean said and once the door opened, a loud gasp could be heard. He squeezed his eyes shut and prayed his mom would make it a quick and painless death.

 

    “JEAN PIERRE KIRSCHTEIN, WHAT THE FUCK!?”

 

    Jean felt like his ears were about to fall off. He had never heard his mother curse before. Well, in French he had, but never in English.

 

    Clara Kirschtein-Jaeger threw her hands up in disbelief, “Saint-ciboire de tabarnak!”

 

    And there was the French.

 

    “Mon dieu, Jean, what did you DO!?” His mother came up to him and touched his hair, as if to see if it was real.

 

    “I…I wanted to change it. I thought it’d look cool, so I…I stopped by the store on my way from school a-and I did it.” Jean avoided making eye contact with his mother.

 

    He heard her sigh loudly before leaning against the doorframe. She shook her head and folded her arms across her chest, “Is this about that girl?”

 

    “W-What? What are you talking about, ma?” Jean felt his ears heat up. It was _definitely_ not about a girl.

 

    “Your brother told me that you came home crying the other day.”

 

    _That fucking weasel. I’LL KILL HIM._

    “You didn’t tell me you had a date. I even dropped you off myself. No wonder you were so eager to get there early,” his mother’s smile was gentle and full of endearment.

 

    Jean stared at the floor, concentrated on the tiles so he didn’t have to look at his mother in the face. “It…it wasn’t a date.”

 

    “I suppose it didn’t go well, then?”

 

    He shook his head.

 

    “Aw, mon petit champignon.” She pulled him into a tight hug and ruffled his newly dyed hair gently. “It is okay, these things happen. It’s not wrong to express your feelings. Rather, you shouldn’t bottle it up. But…Jean, your _hair_.”

    The teen shrugged his mom’s arms off, “It’s only semi-permanent. It should go away in a few weeks.”

 

    “Ah, then it’s okay. But try other ways of expressing yourself. How about music? You like music, yeah?” His mother reached for her phone and began searching for something on it. “Whenever I used to fight with your father there was one song that brought me comfort. In the words of the Les Sultans, ‘Va-t’en’!” Music began playing from her phone. It was slow with a smooth guitar playing and a tambourine could be heard in the background.

 

    “Oh _no_. Not that old seventies band!” Jean groaned.

 

    “ _Ne fusse, qu’un soooir, ne fusse, qu’un instaaant. Je ne puis, plus te voir, va-t’en, va-t’en…Je dois partir, tu sais! Vers un payyys lointain.”_ His mother began to sing along, knowing all the lyrics by heart. “ _À quand, je pleurerai, va-t’en, j’ai du chagriiiiNNN…”_

 

    Jean wanted to tear his ears off, “I can’t do this anymore! Goodbye, mother.” He pushed passed his mom and ran into his bedroom.

 

    “But you’re missing the best part!” His mom called after him.

 

    He slammed the door and threw himself onto his bed. His mom was so embarrassing, Jesus Christ. He just wanted to wallow in _peace_. He was suffering from a major heartbreak and the last thing he needed was his mom singing old ass French music to him. God!

 

    Jean sighed as he reached for his iPod under his pillow. He scrolled down until he found the _perfect_ song for how he’d been feeling the past few days.

 

    _I’m tugging at my hair. I’m pulling at my clothes. I’m trying to keep my cool. I know it shows. I’m staring at my feet. My cheeks are turning red. I’m searching for the words inside my head._

“ _Cause I’m feeling nervous_ ,” Jean couldn’t help but lip sync. “ _Trying to be so perfect, ‘cause I know you’re worth it, you’re worth it, yeah~_ ”

 

    Okay, so what if it was Avril Lavigne? He had to support his fellow Canadians; they need love too. And her music isn’t too bad once you get into it. They have meaningful lyrics, and that’s all Jean cared about. The lyrics!!

 

    “Guess I’m wishing my life awayyy with these things I’ll never say,” he found himself singing out loud. An image of Marco came to mind as he sang the rest of the song and suddenly he felt so stupid. And just as fate would have it, his other newest favorite song came on his playlist.

 

    _Hey hey, you you, I don’t like your girlfriend._

 

    If anyone EVER found his iPod, he’d die of embarrassment. One look at his playlist and he’d never have a chance at a social life ever again.

 

* * *

    Once it hit the one-week checkpoint, Jean decided it was probably time to stop avoiding Marco. He had received a good thirty text messages and ten phone calls from the older teen, but had ignored them all.

 

    _He’s probably freaking out by now_ , Jean thought.

 

    He picked up his flip phone that was easily a decade old and read through all the texts Marco had sent him.

 

**Marco (one week ago)**

**[Hey, did you get home safe?]**

**Marco (one week ago)**

**[Let me know if you still need a ride.]**

**Marco (one week ago)**

**[Jean? Are you okay?]**

**Marco (one week ago)**

**[JEAN??? I’m calling Eren okay??]**

**Marco (one week ago)**

**[Eren said you’re home now…Are you okay? He said you didn’t look so good. I hope you’re okay.]**

**Marco (five days ago)**

**[Eren said you didn’t go to school. Is every thing all right?]**

Jean scrolled all the way up the last message he had sent him, feeling too guilty to look at the rest.

 

**Marco (four hours ago)**

**[I’m not sure if you’ll see this, maybe you lost your phone or you’re angry with me…I don’t know, but I’m sorry for whatever I did. I miss you. Hope we can talk soon…]**

    Jean sighed and buried his face into his pillows again. _Fuckkkk._

 

    How could Marco just _say_ things like that so casually? One minute Jean was mad at him and after one stupid “I miss you” Jean was putty in his hands. What the hell!

 

    So he texted him back.

 

    **_hey srry bout that, lost my charger. im gud. hbu?_**

****

    _Yes, perfect Jean, Sound totally disinterested and uncaring like the asshole you are. But hey, at least he won’t realize he totally and utterly crushed your fucking soul._

 

    A few minutes later, he received a text.

 

**Marco**

**[I’m fine.]**

Jean furrowed his eyebrows. Marco was never one for short replies; he literally wrote _paragraphs_ for every little thing Jean said. This…this was weird. This didn’t sound like him.

 

    **_smth wrong?_**

****

    Of course something was wrong, he just needed to find out what.

 

**Marco**

**[no…I’m fine.]**

Now this was just getting on Jean’s nerves. Yeah, sure the guy single-handedly broke Jean’s heart, but it was unintentional, right? Didn’t mean Jean stopped caring. He fucking _liked_ the dude, of course he cared. Damn.

 

    **_wanna go for a walk?_**

****

**Marco**

**[okay]**

**_be there in 15_**

****

    Jean hopped off his bed and pulled his hoodie on. Marco was acting weirdly and he needed to know why, asap.

 

* * *

    Jean had gotten then in less than fifteen minutes. Not that he was counting. He just really wanted to know what had Marco all upset. So he speed walked to the older teen’s house. And paced back and forth across his porch in nervousness.

 

    _Fuck, what if he’s upset because I didn’t text him back? You screwed up, Jean. Damn it! You always do this…_

    The front door opened and Marco slipped out, for once, not in the polo and jeans he usually sported. He had a gray hoodie on, plain, but seemingly comfortable. But definitely not appropriate for the February weather they were having. However, Jean didn’t utter a word, he simply nuzzled into his own oversized coat.

 

    The thirteen-year-old was afraid of making eye contact, he didn’t know what to expect. He had never seen Marco look so…upset.

 

    “There’s an old playground right around the corner,” Marco spoke first. “Wanna go?”

 

    Jean’s voiced cracked, “Y-Yeah, sure.”

 

    They walked in silence as they stepped down the porch stairs and made their way down the empty sidewalk. It was freezing, and even Jean could feel it through his heavy coat and gloves. He glanced at Marco and worried the older teen was feeling worse than he let on.

 

    Thankfully, the walk to the playground wasn’t very far. Soon, Jean found himself standing by a swing set, with Marco slouched in one of the swings. The younger teen bit his lip before joining Marco in the swing beside him. He sat and figured it’d take some time for Marco to open up, but he was extremely mistaken.

 

    “She broke up with me.”

 

   Jean inhaled deeply, the cold air invading his lungs and making him cough slightly. Did he just hear that correctly? Did Marco just say he got _dumped_? Jean buried his face in his coat collar so his small smile couldn’t show. Couldn’t have Marco seeing _that_.

 

    “Oh…that sucks.”

 

    _Smooth, Jean. Smooth._

 

    Marco’s mouth pulled to one side, “It’s okay. I just…it doesn’t hurt as much as it should. I actually feel _relieved._ ” He covered his face with his frozen hands. “I’m such a terrible person.”

 

    Jean frowned, “N-No, you’re not! I mean, that’s not true, I’m sure your feelings are validated. Um, h-how did it happen? You know, like…when she ended it?”

 

    Marco leaned back, swinging himself lightly. He sighed, “You remember how I was planning on getting her a gift from that one store we went to?”

 

    Jean nodded, _Yeah, right before you broke my fucking heart._

 

    “Well, I ended up getting her this really cool set. It came with like lotion, soap, perfume, the whole thing. And it smelled pretty nice, so I figured she’d like it. But when I gave it to her…” The edges of Marco’s mouth pulled down, “She said she hated the smell, that it made her nauseous. So we went back to return it and instead of getting like, another scent, she just…she just wanted me to buy her _everything_. New towels, hand sanitizer, a case for her lotion, everything!”

 

    Jean scrunched his eyebrows but waited for Marco to finish.

 

    “I told her I couldn’t get her the stuff because I was low on money. So she told me that if I really l-loved her,” a blush was evident on Marco’s face at this point, “That I would get her anything she wanted to make up for the…the ‘stupid’ gift I had gotten her. And I don’t know, I just…I felt agitated and pressured and I said, ‘But I _don’t_ love you” and she just…she stared at me in shock and I felt like a jerk. I mean, who _says_ that on Valentine’s Day!?” Marco ran frozen fingers through his semi-perfect hair in frustration. “Obviously she asked me why I was even with her and at that point it was like I couldn’t control what I was saying. I told her I didn’t know. I still don’t know why I was with her.”

 

    “So then she dumped you?” Jean inquired.

 

     Marco chuckled dryly, “Well, after she slapped me, but yeah.”

 

    Jean’s hands curled up into solid fists, “No offense but she sounds like a selfish bitch.”

 

    “…She wasn’t always like that. I guess she was just getting tired of me. I read once that people do that. You know, fill the void of a waning relationship with buying stuff.”

 

    “Well if she was, then she’s not just selfish but stupid too. You were making an effort and she just…just…just disregarded that! Like what the fuck!” Jean didn’t realize he had been shaking with anger. He just couldn’t believe that someone would _abuse_ Marco like that. Marco, the kindest, most thoughtful person on the face of this Earth, disrespected by someone he really liked…

 

    Jean maintained a frown that would probably forever be embedded on his face. But suddenly he felt a cold hand on the top of his head, ruffling his hair. He glanced over at his freckled friend.

 

    “Thanks, Jean.” Marco smiled as the chains on his swing clashed with Jean’s.

 

    “For what?” The thirteen-year-old was genuinely confused.

 

    “For getting mad for me. It oddly makes me feel better.”

 

    Now that _definitely_ threw Jean through a loop.

 

    “I just insulted your girlfriend.”

 

    “Well, _ex_ -girlfriend now.”

 

    “B-But you _liked_ her!”

 

    Marco shrugged, “I’m starting to wonder if I ever did.”

 

    Jean’s eyes shifted to the gravel under his feet. What did Marco mean by that? How could you doubt your feelings for someone you were in a relationship with? Was that a thing? He thought the reason _why_ people got together was because they mutually liked each other. So how could Marco not know if he did? The concept was just foreign to Jean.

 

    Jean felt a playful tug at his shaggy hair. “H-Hey!”

 

    Marco chuckled, “When did you dye your hair?”

 

    Jean reflexively lifted a hand to pat down his hair. “A few days ago before my mom got home from work.”

 

    The older teen whistled, “Wow, we’ve got a rebel over here.”

 

    Jean shoved his side, sending the teen swinging to the opposite side.

 

    “Kidding!” Even though the sun was close to setting, Marco’s face shined bright. “No, but honestly, it looks good on you. You seem, edgier, if that even makes sense.”

 

    Jean blushed, “Oh, uh, t-thanks.”

 

    “Still like your natural hair color better, though. It’s a nice shade of brown. It has like some cool two-toned thing going on. You could really pull that off somehow.”

 

    “Uh, thanks? I guess?” Jean refused to meet Marco’s eyes as he felt his ears heat up.

 

    His thoughts were disturbed by the loud sound of teeth clattering. He glanced at Marco and saw him shivering.

 

    “Dude!”

 

    “Ssshh, it’s not that bad if I don’t think about it!” Marco clenched his eyes shut, trying to pretend his body wasn’t completely freezing as they spoke.

 

    Jean rolled his eyes, “You’re insane, Marco Bodt. You know that?”

 

    “I’ve been told on occasion,” the teen in question trembled as he laughed. His eyes widened however when he felt a coat wrap around his shoulders. “Jean?”

 

    “Shut it, Freckles. I’m not letting you die of fucking hypothermia just because you needed a shoulder to cry on. Now put it on and shut up.”

 

    “But you—”

 

    “Shush!”

 

    Marco grinned from ear to ear as he settled into the coat, even though it was much too small for him. He shoved his hands into the pockets and his eyebrows quirked when he realized Jean had stashed his gloves into them. He looked over at the younger teen and noticed him blowing hot air onto his fingers. Marco shook his head as he pulled on one glove and tossed the other to Jean.

 

    “At least keep one so your fingers don’t fall off,” he teased as the glove hit Jean’s face.

 

    “Well what am I supposed to do with one cold hand!?” Jean refuted, more embarrassed than he let on.

 

    That was when Marco grabbed Jean’s ungloved hand with his own and shoved it into his pocket, stunning Jean into silence.

 

    “Now none of us will be losing fingers to frostbite. Good?” Marco smirked.

 

    _You could end wars with that look, Jesusss._

 

    Jean wondered if Marco could tell how fast his heart was beating through his hand.

 

    “I love having you as a friend, Jean.”

 

    Marco’s words both made Jean’s heart flip and feel like it was on fire. “Y-Yeah, me too.”

 

    The thirteen-year-old looked down at their hands, hidden within the pocket of his coat. He wiggled his fingers experimentally, earning a squeeze from Marco’s hand.

 

    If the erratic rhythm his heart was thumping against his chest were anything to go by, he’d say he’s got it bad. This wasn’t just a silly old crush, he realized. He seriously _liked_ Marco a _lot_.

 

    Jean let out a sigh he hadn’t meant on releasing. Marco turned and knit his eyebrows together.

 

    “It’s f-freezing out here. I don’t want you getting sick because of me. We should head off. I’ll give you a ride home.”

 

    “You mean your mom will,” the thirteen-year-old teased.

 

    Marco kicked his feet so his swing forced his body to bump into Jean’s, “Yeah well, in four more months I’ll be getting my license and then I’ll give you all the rides you want.”

 

    Jean’s hand unintentionally tightened around Marco, surprising both boys. Jean quickly let go of the warm hand and brought his arm to his side.

 

    “That’s if you don’t get tired of me by then.”

 

    Marco leaned against his swing and smiled gently at his younger friend. “I could never get tired of you, Jean. I like you too much.”

 

    _Not the way I like you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation:  
> "Mon coeur"--My heart  
> "Mon petit champignon"--My little mushroom  
> "Ne fusse, qu’un soooir, ne fusse, qu’un instaaant. Je ne puis, plus te voir, va-t’en, va-t’en…Je dois partir, tu sais! Vers un payyys lointain. À quand, je pleurerai, va-t’en, j’ai du chagriiiiNNN…"---Even for a night even for an instant. I can't see you anymore go away go away. I have to go you know to a distant country to where I will cry go away. I'm in grief.
> 
> Song: "Va t'en" by Les Sultans


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean couldn't contain his feelings anymore. He physically couldn't handle what he felt for Marco. They were confusing and overwhelming and...beautiful.
> 
> He needed to do something about it or he'd explode.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy frick, I had like half of this written but never went back to it. Sorry!!! But here's the next chapter, finally lol
> 
> I apologize in advance for the sucky writing, I got pretty rusty from not writing for like a whole month -.-
> 
> Also, y'all should be following the fic: dylm tag on tumblr, jussayinnn

    It wasn’t as if he had meant to do it. In all honesty, he wasn’t even aware his fingers had typed the words. But there Jean was, looking up wiki articles about his dilemma.

 

    _In love with brother’s friend,_ he typed into the search bar. Within not even a second, Jean was bombarded with search results.

 

    “Sixteen million results…Jesus…” He ran a hand through his now-black hair as he clicked on the first result.

 

    Jean’s eyes scanned the page and widened as he read the story of a fourteen-year-old who was in love with her brother’s friend. The friend was three years older, around Marco’s age, attractive, charming, with “the most ahhh-mazing smile ever.”

 

    The thirteen-year-old felt his throat tighten and goosebumps covered his arms. This was him. This was legitimately his situation. He got excited; first result and he could get the advice that he needed. So he scrolled down happily and looked at the first few replies.

 

    - _Go for it !! Who cares what your brother says it’s true loveeee_

_-ur only 14 its not love_

_-Nothin’ wrong with harmless flirtin’, just don’t let him get it, if ya know what I mean c;_

 

    - _youre going to ruin your brother’s friendship because you can’t keep it in your pants_

    At that point, Jean just exited out of the window and slumped back into his swivel chair, sighing loudly. So much for helpful wiki answers.

 

    “Shit,” he muttered under his breath as he tossed his head back to look at the ceiling, which he found he did often. He found comfort in the blank white ceiling. It helped him clear his head of whatever thoughts threatened his stability.

 

    _So either I’m not in love and just a horny bastard, or this is for real._

 

    He squeezed his eyes shut and an image of Marco’s face appeared in his mind. The smile he often gave Jean clear on his features. A few more goosebumps joined the others on Jean’s arms. He breathed in deeply as he remembered the feel of Marco’s hand in his, warm inside his coat pocket, soft against his palm, gentle. What he wouldn’t give to feel those hands on him.

 

    Jean sat up in his chair and rubbed his eyes raw. _This is no time for getting a boner, you fucktard. You’re trying to figure out WHY you get a hard-on every time you think about this guy._

 

    But who could he ask? Google wasn’t helping very much, and no matter how close he was to his mom it’s not like he could go up to her and ask her for advice like he used to. Jean felt so lost, not knowing where to even begin to look for help.

 

    And that’s when a light bulb went off in his head.

 

    He wheeled himself closer to the desk and quickly logged into the one game he hadn’t been on in about two months. He didn’t even bother checking where his avatar had landed before opening up the chatbox and seeing just the person he wanted to talk to.

 

    _He’s logged in. Fuck, this is gonna be awkward._ Jean had no way of approaching the situation, but he was desperate and in need of ideas, so he did it.

 

    **mememasterjean: hey**

    Jean’s heart beat against his chest harder than he had imagined. The blood was rushing to his ears and he couldn’t believe he was legitimately about to ask the one guy who liked him for relationship advice. What an asshole.

 

    **wolfboy21897: _omg hi, wow, didnt expect you to hmu_**

****

    _Shit, he replied. Oh fuck, oh no, he should’ve just ignored me. I don’t know what to say, goddamn it, Jean you never think these things through._

**mememasterjean: uh yeah lol funny how life works**

** mememasterjean: actuly, i wantd 2 say srry 4…u know, bein a dbag n all**

    A few minutes passed by, making Jean twitch with every second that went by without wolfboy replying. Did he saw something wrong? Should he have sent him a gift or a potion or something? That might have been the right thing to do…Jean berated himself for not thinking about it sooner. Just as he was agonizing internally over his mistake, his chatbox lit up.

 

    **wolfboy21897: _thanks. i mean, ngl it sucked but its okay now, i forgive u. i just wanna b friends again & go on raids together_**

****

**mememasterjean: ofc!! dude yea np ill try n log in more often**

** wolfboy21897: _:)))_**

** wolfboy21897: _so…what did u wanna talk about?_**

** mememasterjean: oh uh…first u gotta promise u wont h8 me**

** wolfboy21897: _promise_**

Jean took a deep breath. It would be the first time admitting to someone else about his new sexual preference and he had no idea how it would go.

 

    **mememasterjean: i think im gay**

**wolfboy21897: what**

**mememasterjean: I DNT KNOW WUT HAPPND BUT MY STEPBRO HAS A FRND WHOS RLY NICE N CUTE N HE SAID HE LIKES ME N IDK MY HEART GOES CRAZYYY N FUCK HE HAS A NICE SMILE IM GAY IM FUCKN GAY NOW**

   

    “I fucked up.” Jean buried his head in his hands. “I lost it. I fucked it all up and now he probably thinks I’m weird and won’t help me. Shit.”

 

    To his surprise, his online friend replied much sooner than expected.

 

    **wolfboy21897: _wow…just…wow. youve got it bad_**

**mememasterjean: wut do u mean?**

** wolfboy21897: _for u, mr im-straight-no-homo to fall for a guy, its gotta b the real deal_**

** mememasterjean: but hes 2 yrs oldr, n my stepbro’s frnd, n like, google says im 2 young 2 b in love**

** wolfboy21897 : _well does he talk to u?_**

** mememasterjean: yea…we hang out alot, just us 2**

** wolfboy21897: _does ur stepbro know?_**

** mememasterjean: no, we txt secretly n hang out when hes not around**

** wolfboy21897 : _sound like ur havin an affair_**

** mememasterjean: wut**

** wolfboy21897: _nvrmind. idk, if u really like this guy, stick w/ him no matter what. let him know you like him, find the right time to confess n get him to like you back. who cares what google says._**

****

** mememasterjean: hes str8**

** wolfboy21897: _so were u_**

_Fuck._ Jean hated it when his friend was right. He somehow always knew what to say to make Jean shut up and stop doubting himself.

 

    _But what if he hates me?_ He inquires as much to wolfboy, who replies with: **_then you know he wasnt truly a friend._**

The thirteen-year-old leaned back in his chair and contemplated the conversation he had just had. How could this kid just say things that made sense? Jean was pretty sure he wasn’t much older than him and yet his advice always seemed to have come from someone way beyond his years. How did he do it?

 

    **mememasterjean : thnxx…4 bein there 4 me n not like…judgin me n stuff**

** wolfboy21897: _hey, us homos gotta look out for each other LOL_**

    Jean couldn’t help but crack a smile at that. He couldn’t believe that just two months ago he was so vehemently against even the thought of being gay and yet here he was, proudly bonding over his sexuality with a semi-stranger over the Internet. Well that and he had, on numerous occasions, visited gay porn sites… _and_ jerked off to his stepbrother’s friend… _and_ may or may not have wanted to kiss said friend. So honestly, he wondered if the gay in him was always there, just dormant. He still couldn’t believe how well he was taking this. Lord knows the him from a few months ago wouldn’t have taken it in stride.

 

    He let out a deep breath and closed his eyes. So this is what it boiled down to: either telling Marco the truth and risking their friendship, or staying shut about it and letting it drive him insane. Neither option sounded very appealing, but Jean knew he had to do something. And hey, if this was just a stupid crush, he’d get over it soon enough, right? At least he hoped so.

 

    Just as Jean found his resolve, the doorbell rang.

 

    “Jean, tu peux aller voir qui c’est?” His mother called out for him to answer the door.

 

    He sighed as he pushed out his chair and made his way towards the stairs, “Ouais, ma.” The teen trudged down the stairs and turned the knob, cracking the door open.

 

    “Hi Jean,” Marco smiled brightly as he held a few bags of McDonald’s in his arms. “Mind if I come in?”

 

    “What are you doing here?” Jean hissed, making sure Eren didn’t hear them from downstairs. “Eren’s home today so we can’t—”

 

    “Hey, Marco!” Too late. “You didn’t tell me you were coming over.”

 

    Marco’s laughed nervously, “Y-Yeah, the guys told me they were all going out. Except you stayed home apparently.” He muttered the last part so Eren didn’t quite catch it as he grabbed the food bags and shoved them into Jean’s arms.

 

    “Make yourself useful and help us with the food. If you manage to bring them downstairs, maybe I’ll consider giving you a fry or two.” Eren said in the douchiest tone possible.

 

    Jean glared at his stepbrother for trying to act “cool” and “dominant” around his friend. He kept his mouth shut but did as his brother said anyway.

 

    Marco quickly shuffled out of his coat and grabbed a bag from Jean’s hand before he went down to the basement. “I’ll help! I brought it over so you don’t need to worry about it.”

 

    Eren was obviously miffed at that but didn’t argue, knowing how kind-hearted Marco was.

 

    Once all three teens made their way down the stairs, Jean and Marco set up the food on the table and Eren turned on the TV. “So what brings you over today, Marc? I thought you were busy on Saturdays.”

 

    Marco made eye contact with Jean, not even bothering to look at Eren. “I wanted to watch some hockey.” He gave an apologetic smile to the younger teen, which crushed Jean because all he wanted to do was hang out but _Eren_ had to be in the way.

 

    “Hockey? Since when were you into that?” Eren said as he plopped himself down on a beanbag.

 

    Marco shrugged as his hand brushed against Jean’s when he settled a drink down on the table. “Not too long ago. A friend recommended I get into it so I figured I’d try it out. I remembered your brother was into it so…”

 

    Eren eyed him suspiciously, “I mentioned that?”

 

    “Uh, y-yeah, that day you came to school with a black eye,” Marco stiffened.

 

    “Oh yeah, that game against the Rangers. Fucking brace face over here couldn’t take a little competitive comment.”

 

    “Saying the Rangers are better than the Canadiens is blasphemy, dickhead!! You had it comin’.” Jean retorted as he sat down on the floor next to Marco’s beanbag.

 

    “Whoa, dumbfuck, what do you think you’re doing?” Eren knit his eyebrows together.

 

    Jean looked confused, “Uh, sitting?”

 

   “Who said you could stay with us? Marco came to hang out with _me_ , not you. Get lost.”

 

    The thirteen-year-old clenched his fist and saw his eyesight go blurry with rage.

 

    Before Jean could even think about decking Eren in the face, Marco pressed a hand to his chest, quickly settling him down.

 

    “I was actually wondering if Jean could sit with us. I mean, he knows all about hockey, right? And I’m pretty slow when it comes to watching a game so he could give me the play-by-play since I know you don’t like explaining.”

 

    Eren glanced back and forth between Marco and Jean but ended up just shrugging and slouching further into his beanbag. “Whatever, as long as he doesn’t eat all my fries.”

 

    _Those fries are actually for me, asshole._ Jean thought to himself as he reached for the remote and switched to ESPN.

 

    “Who’s playing tonight?” Marco asked as he grabbed his fries and offered some to Jean, who readily accepted them.

 

    “Canadiens against Tampa Bay Lightning,” Jean shoved the fries into his mouth.

 

    “That’s a dumb name for a team,” Eren complained.

 

    “Shut up, it’s starting.”

 

    Marco got up to dim the lights and Jean’s eyes followed him. That’s when he remembered the advice wolfboy had given him. His face heated up. The room would be dark but, he could try and get closer to Marco, even if Eren was there he wouldn’t notice.

 

    Once Marco sat back down, Jean noticed he didn’t sit on the beanbag but instead he chose to sit on the floor next to Jean. His hand brushed against Jean’s knee as he settled in his spot, making Jean twitch in excitement.

 

    _Calm down, you horny fucker, it is not the time or place for this._ Jean mentally smacked himself. But this…this was good. Marco was closing the distance between them, so being a little more intimate wouldn’t be too noticeable…At least Jean hoped it wasn’t.

 

    As the game started, Eren rambled on about being excited to see a fight break out on the ice. Just as Jean rolled his eyes, he felt his phone vibrate inside his pocket. He wiped the French fry grease off his hands on his pants and flipped open his crappy phone, reading the text.

 

**Marco**

**_Sorry my surprise turned out to be a bust :( I thought Eren had gone out with everyone else._**

Jean turned to look at the freckled teen beside him who just brought a finger to his lips, telling him to keep it a secret. A wide grin appeared on Jean’s face as he typed out a response.

 

    **itz fine, not ur fault. eren wuz supposed 2 go out but my mom told him he culdnt cuz he had 2 clean hiz room**

**Marco**

**_Aw, that sucks!! Well, we can make the most of it while we can, right? :D_**

****

The thirteen-year-old just wanted to kiss that smile off Marco’s face. He couldn’t handle it anymore, the older teen was just so perfect in every way; it was insane.  

 

    So both teens texted back and forth, asking each other about their day, barely paying attention to the game. Every now and then their hands would reach for the food and promptly stuff their faces with it.

 

    Marco offered some of his strawberry milkshake to Jean, since Eren had taken the vanilla shake meant for him.

 

    “Y-You sure?” The younger teen asked nervously.

 

    “Of course! I’m nearly full anyway,” Jean knew it was a lie, but accepted the drink nonetheless. He took a gulp of the shake and halfway through, he realized that the same straw had met Marco’s lips. The teen felt his ears redden and the drink ended up going down the wrong pipe, making him sputter and cough.

 

    “Are you okay!?” Marco patted his back gently.

 

    “Spaz,” Eren muttered under his breath as his eyes remained glued to the TV.

 

    Jean nodded, “Y-Yeah I’m fine. Wrong pipe.” His hand went for the fries, hoping that if he ate some, the weird feeling in his throat would go away and maybe stop him from overthinking things.

 

    His hand dove into the container and brushed against Marco’s own hand. Jean quickly retracted it, suddenly hyperaware of his situation. He could suddenly _feel_ how close he was to Marco, how their legs pressed against each other, how he could hear Marco breathing softly, how their feet bumping into each other whenever one of them moved. This was what wolfboy had told him to do, to get close to Marco, to build up an atmosphere and use it to his advantage. This was his chance.

 

    “Aw come on! He could’ve made that fucking shot!!”

 

    But obviously there was something, or rather some _one_ getting in the way of that atmosphere.

 

    Jean found himself getting irritated and sighed, feeling his courage quickly dissipate.

 

    “What happened? You don’t want fries anymore?” Marco whispered.

 

    “Nah, it’s fine. I prefer poutine, honestly. Never really got used to regular fries.”

 

    The older teen quirked his head to the side, “Poutine? What’s that?”

   

   “Just some nasty ass Canadian fries with gravy,” Eren pretended to gag and laughed.

 

    Jean picked up a fry that had fallen on the floor and threw it at his stepbrother’s face. “Excuse you, asshat!! Poutine is literally the greatest thing on this earth after crepes, fucking uncultured swine.” The shaggy-haired teen turned to Marco and described the deliciousness that was poutine and nearly salivated just explaining how it’s made.

 

    The freckled teen laughed, “Just another thing I’ll have to try out if I ever go to Canada.”

 

    “I’ll take you,” Jean said without thinking. “When we’re older, when I can drive, I’ll take you to Canada. I-If you want to, I mean.”

 

    Marco gave his signature smile as he lifted a hand and ran it through Jean’s dark hair, “I’d like that very much.”

 

    Jean’s heart thudded against his chest and he knew then that whatever he felt couldn’t be fake. Fuck what google said, this was the real deal. This whole drumbeat his heart played against his ribcage was clear proof that he was serious about Marco. He liked him in _that_ way, and it didn’t have anything to do with the boners he got. Okay maybe it did, but this was far deeper than any sexual attraction he ever felt. This had to be some sort of love.

 

    When the commercials came on during half-time, Eren got up to go to the bathroom, leaving Jean alone with Marco for the first time that night.

 

    Marco stretched his legs and cracked his back, unwinding from the sitting position he had been in for a while. Jean bit his lip, knowing that this was it, this was when he could do it.

 

    “Hey, Marco…um, can I ask you something?” Jean asked quietly as he pulled at his sleeves so they’d cover his hands, hiding how cold and clammy they had suddenly become.

 

    “Yeah, sure, what’s up?” Marco asked as he leaned in closer to hear Jean’s question.

 

    “Uh, if I…I said something that made you uncomfortable, would you hate me?”

 

    The brown-eyed teen scrunched his eyebrows in confusion, “Uncomfortable how?”

 

    “Like, weird and not normal.” Why did he have to make this so difficult?

 

    “Hm…well is it about yourself?”

 

    Jean nodded, “Yeah, like, how I feel and junk.”

 

    The confusion lifted off Marco’s features and instead his expression softened, “Nothing about you could ever make me uncomfortable. Whatever you feel isn’t weird, it’s a part of you. Even if it’s not what I’m used to, I’ll accept it, no matter what because you’re my friend.”

 

    _Fuck, just let me kiss you, please. Holy shit, I can’t handle this anymore, why are you so perfect?_ Jean wanted to curl up into a ball. He was hit with so many emotions that it was literally tearing him up inside. He just needed to let it all out. Tell Marco how he felt and get it over with. It would be a hell of a lot better than keeping it all shut up inside him.

 

    “I think I…Marco, I think I lik—”

 

    “Yo, Marc, whatever happened to that chick you were going out with?” Eren practically skipped down the steps as he entered the basement.

 

    Jean felt like banging his head against a wall. Out of all fucking times, his stepbrother chose THEN to waltz back into the room. Jean was bitter to say the least.

 

    Marco seemed to sense the sudden change in atmosphere because he looked at Jean with apologetic eyes but replied to Eren nonetheless. “Oh, uh, we broke up a while ago.”

 

    “Sorry man, I didn’t know.” The brown-haired teen sat back down on his beanbag and Jean hoped he’d let the topic go. Unfortunately, very rarely does Jean ever get what he wants. “I haven’t seen you walking her to class lately and wondered what was up. The guys were saying you got tired of her, but apparently she’s been saying shit about you.”

 

    Marco’s shoulders tensed and Jean could tell he was feeling uncomfortable, but he answered Eren politely. “Yeah, we had a falling out I suppose.”

 

    Jean clenched a fist at the memory of Marco during the break up. How he beat himself up for not liking the girl and how abusive she was. He was sure no one knew the details, and the fact that the girl was going around slandering Marco made Jean even angrier than before.

 

    Eren clapped a hand onto Marco’s shoulder and laughed, “Don’t worry, you’ll find someone soon enough. Marco Bodt never stays single for long, amiright?”

 

    Jean suddenly felt just as tense as Marco probably was, but for a different reason. What did he mean by that?  

 

    The freckled teen hadn’t noticed the shift in Jean’s demeanor and simply chuckled sincerely, “It’s not that I purposely _look_ for a relationship. I just always feel bad about turning someone down that I sort of _end up_ dating them.”

 

    Jean’s mouth dropped open. He couldn’t believe his ears. He couldn’t have possibly heard that right. The Marco he knew was kind and thoughtful. But his words just then sounded just plain stupid and obnoxious in the thirteen-year-old’s mind. He felt rage build up inside him and without thinking he opened his mouth to speak.

 

    “If you accept someone’s confession, they’ll be under the impression you like them back. But pity-dating someone is worse than actually getting rejected. If you have that mentality, then you’ll just keep fucking up again.”

 

    The air suddenly felt cold and sharp. Eren stared at Jean as if he was speaking another language and Marco…the look on his face was indescribable. A mixture of disbelief and offense was evident, but perhaps unintentionally.

 

    Once Jean realized what had happened, he unclenched his jaw and released all the tension from his body. The look in Marco’s eyes was enough for him to realize he might have said too much.

 

    “Sorry, fuck, I didn’t mean—”

 

    “Don’t you fucking disrespect Marco like that, you little shit!!” Eren found his voice and was suddenly enraged. “A sorry ass middle schooler like you wouldn’t understand. How about you grow the fuck up and get your childish ideals out of your head.”

 

    Jean’s eyes were glued to the floor, his nails digging into the palm of his hand. He got up from his spot on the floor and walked towards the stairs. “My bad, I’m just gonna go now.” He couldn’t meet Marco’s eyes but he mumbled a quick “sorry” before running up to his room.

 

    The thirteen-year-old breathed heavily, having used up more energy than usual just from running up the stairs. He couldn’t tell if his heart was beating rapidly because of the running or because of the delayed nervousness. His hands shook, probably from shock.

 

    _You did it again, Jean. You keep fucking everything up._ The teen punched the wall in frustration, though he immediately regretted it from the intense pain he felt shoot up his knuckles. He leaned his head against the wall and looked down at his feet. Despite feeling like he said something he shouldn’t have, he realized one important thing. _This just means you can never tell him. If he doesn’t get disgusted by you, he’ll just pity you and let you entertain the idea that he could ever care about you in that way. You’d just be another dumbass._

 

    Jean bent down and hugged his knees to his chest. He wanted to tell him. He wanted to let Marco know how much he means to him. He _trusted_ him. But it was clear now he couldn’t do it. He could never let Marco know this about him. Wolfboy was wrong. Confessing to Marco wouldn’t wreck his friendship…it’d wreck _his heart._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter is going to be extremely heartbreaking. 
> 
> It's all downhill from here on until after the time skip :3


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean should've seen it coming. Every thing had pointed to it, he had just been blind. He felt so stupid for ever having expectations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Over 10,000 hits guys, I can't believe!!!  
> You have all been such an AMAZING support and I'm just so glad you all enjoy reading this fic as much as I love writing it.
> 
> Sooo~ since today is my birthday (happy 18th to me uwu), I've decided to update a lot sooner than usual!!
> 
> Hope you enjoy :D

    Jean didn’t think he’d have to spend another birthday with his shit for a stepbrother and yet here he was, turning fourteen in a foreign country at a combined birthday party. Yeah, that’s right. He and Eren were having a JOINED birthday party, courtesy of his oh so very loving mother.

 

    _Stupid Eren, had to have his birthday a week before mine. Fucking asshole._ Jean grumbled as he looked in the mirror and patted his hair down. The party would be starting in a few minutes and his mom instructed him to dress nicely because Eren’s friends were coming over. _Eren’s_ friends were coming to _Jean’s_ party. Well, okay fine, it was both their party but still, everyone knew it’d practically be just Eren’s since Jean didn’t have any close friends. Besides his mom invited all the neighborhood kids for his sake. He honestly didn’t even know them, he just knew they were coming for the food.

 

    His mom knocked on the door, motioning for him to get downstairs and he groaned. He’d have to smile and act like he was fucking grateful for a party that was mostly for Eren. Ugh, why couldn’t he just have his own party like when they were in Canada?

 

    Because it was Eren’s sixteenth and their parents went all out and hired a DJ and bought a nice cake, and got him a car—that he can’t legally drive yet—so that just meant Jean would have to share a stupid fucking party. To say he was angry was an understatement.

 

    So he trudged down the stairs and waited for the guests to arrive.

 

    “Don’t bother my friends when they get here, okay? This might seem stupid to you but this is a huge fucking deal, all right?” Eren cornered him in the living room.

 

    Jean stared at his stepbrother incredulously. Was he being serious?

 

    “It’s my party too,” the fourteen-year-old replied as he refused to make eye contact with Eren.

 

    Eren narrowed his eyes, “It’s _my_ sixteenth birthday and they’re _my_ friends, so don’t fuck anything up, got it!?”

 

    Jean held his hands up as if to surrender. “Okay, fine, whatever. I’ll just…stay in my room again or something.”

 

    “I don’t care what you do, but don’t ruin my day and we won’t have a problem.”

 

    The doorbell rang, signaling the start of what would probably be the worst birthday ever for Jean.

 

* * *

 

    The music coming from the basement was loud and obnoxious and it wasn’t even good music in Jean’s opinion. What’s so good about lyric-less techno music? Nothing, that’s what. Hell, the DJ wouldn’t even play the song he requested. What was so bad about Linkin Park?

 

      Either way, Jean walked around the first floor with a semi-filled plastic plate with chicken wings and cake. Not a very appetizing mix but hey, it was better than nothing. He made his way out of the kitchen and into the living room with his food.  
  
  
  
    "Jean!" Came a voice from the hallway.  
  
  
  
    The fourteen-year-old turned around, mouth stuffed with greasy chicken. His eyes widened as he searched for something to wipe his face with so he didn't look like a total idiot in front of his crush.  
  
  
  
    "M-Marco, hey..." The air felt a little tense. Ever since that one night Jean yelled at Marco the older teen hadn't come over. After the first few days, Jean texted Marco to apologize; he in turn replied that it was all right, that he hadn't taken any offense. But the fact still remained that he hadn't come over or texted Jean as frequently as he usually did, so Jean knew something was off.  
  
  
  
     Marcos shrugged off his coat and put down a bag he had in his hand. "Sorry for coming so late, I was waiting for Ymir to give us a ride."  
  
  
    _Us?_ Jean questioned internally but quickly brushed it off.  
  
  
  
    "Yeah, so anyway, um, I just wanted to say happy birthday!" The freckled teen smiled as he held out a large box wrapped in gift-wrap and a bow on top.  
  
  
  
    Jean glanced down at it in confusion, "Eren's downstairs so..." This had to be a gift for Eren, right? It couldn't possibly be for him. It was a pretty big box so he assumed it was important. Something like that could never be...  
  
  
  
    "No, you dork, it's for you. Go ahead, open it."  
  
  
  
    The fourteen-year-old set his plate down on a nearby table and casually wiped his hands on his pants. He grabbed the box and was surprised by its weight. It felt heavy. Jean set it on the table next to his food and worked at ripping the paper open. Belatedly he realized maybe he should have been careful in opening it since this _was_ a present from Marco after all, but he desperately wanted to see what was inside.  
  
  
    The second he saw that iconic shade of green and the big X symbol, Jean nearly passed out.  
  
  
  
    "You're shitting me right now."  
  
  
    Marco's grin spread from ear to ear, "Do you like it?"  
  
  
    Jean's mouth refused to stay closed, "No, oh god, I mean yes, but money! This cost a shit ton of money, I can't accept—"  
  
  
    "Don't worry about it. It's not entirely new." Marco said sheepishly. "It was my old 360, and I hadn't actually played it much and I even had the box so I figured you could use it a lot more than I do." He then picked up the bag he had by his feet and handed it to Jean. "I brought a few games I thought you'd like so you can start playing whenever you want. No need to wait until Eren's gone to use his anymore."  
  
  
    "Marco...I don't know what to say, I can't...holy shit, wow, just, thanks so much!!" Jean smiled so hard he felt like his face would break in half. "I have no idea how to make up for this. I just, fuck, I'm sorry for before. I mean that last time you came over..."  
  
  
    The older teen shook his head, "Jean, it's _fine_. I didn't worry about it so neither should you."  
  
  
    "Really?"  
  
  
    "Yeah. In fact, I thought a lot about what you said and realized that I shouldn't just wait around for someone to show interest in me first."  
  
  
    Jean took a step back, "Wait, what?"  
  
  
    "This whole time I was being mediocre about my feelings towards someone but not anymore. It was about time I made the first move."  
  
  
    _Oh my god...is he saying what I think he's saying?_ Jean's heartbeat sped up and his hands began to shake. Was this happening? Was it possible Marco felt the same way about him? He hadn't even confessed yet but maybe...maybe what he said made Marco realize his feelings for him. Maybe Marco like-liked him. Maybe this was his big chance.  
  
  
    "I'm not really good with this sort of thing," Marco rubbed his index finger alongside the bottom of his nose in nervousness.  
  
  
  
    _He's really going to do it. Holy shit!_

Jean could barely control his excitement. He could feel the atmosphere turn rosy, filled with love, prime for a confession. He just waited for the very words he longed to hear.  
  
  
  
    "Well that's why you have me, silly!" A high-pitched voice called out from behind Marco.

 

    Jean felt his skin grow cold.  
  
  
  
    Within moments a tiny blonde girl came up next to Marco and wrapped her arm around his. Jean was stunned into silence. What was going on?  
  
  
  
    "Uh, Jean, I'd like you to meet Christa. Christa, this is Eren's stepbrother Jean, the one I told you about." Marco introduced the two.  
  
  
    The blonde's eyes widened in recognition, "Oh my gosh, yeah! Hi, nice to meet you, Jean. I've heard so much about you."  
  
  
    Jean's eyes traveled back and forth frantically between Marco and the girl currently attached to his arm.  
  
  
    "I...haven't...?"  
  
  
    Marco smacked his forehead dramatically, "Oh that's right! Shoot, I forgot to tell you about it. Yeah, um, she's my girlfriend now, haha."  
  
  
    Christa's hand enclosed over Marco's, whose fingers interlocked with hers. "You're always forgetting something, you goof." She leaned up on her toes and pecked Marco on the cheek. "But that's what I love about you."  
  
  
    The freckled teen blushed and chuckled but squeezed her hand affectionately.  
  
  
    He coughed awkwardly before turning back to Jean, "I hope you like your gift, by the way. Now Eren can't take anything away from you."  
  
  
    Jean felt frozen to his spot on the ground. He felt like he had spaced out from the shock. What was happening? Who was that girl? Marco had to be joking right? He was just misunderstanding the situation. But then why was she clinging to him? Why did she have pet names for him? Why did she...k-kiss him?  
  
  
    She kissed Marco.  
  
  
    She was his girlfriend.  
  
  
    He was never going to confess. He was just Jean’s friend. He had a girlfriend.  
  
  
    Jean suddenly felt a wave of emotions hit him. It was settling in. The tears prickled the back of Jean's eyes and he took a sharp deep breath.  
  
  
    "Jean, are you okay?" Marco asked with a concerned look on his face.  
  
  
    Jean's knuckled went white from how hard he clenched his present. The present Marco had given him. Right before he thought he was getting confessed to. Before Marco introduced his girlfriend.  
  
  
    "Fine! I'm fine!" Jean said a little too loudly. Hopefully the loud music from downstairs could mask how loud he was being. "I, uh, I'm just gonna, um, put this upstairs." Jean side melt felt dizzy, his eyes blurring the image in front of him.  
  
  
    "Do you need help?"  
  
  
    The fourteen-year-old shook his head, tucked the box under his arm and carried the bag with video games in his other hand. He gave a quick nod to Marco, as it to say goodbye as he practically sprinted to his room.  
  
  
    He couldn't breathe. It was happening again. It was just like two months ago.  
  
  
    Jean dumped his presents onto his bed, carefully so as to not break anything but also not as cautiously as he had hoped.

 

    He had been so stupid. So fucking stupid.

 

    Jean just stood in the middle of his room, not wanting to move. He didn’t have the energy to throw himself on the bed and kick and scream or even shout in frustration. It just all felt too much.

 

    He knelt down and sat on the floor, leaning against his bed frame and closed his eyes. He desperately needed his iPod but had neither the desire nor the energy to search for it. So he played his favorite song in his head. He could clearly hear the beat in his mind, could follow exactly where the guitar solo began. He bobbed his head slowly as he squeezed his eyes shut and bit his lips.

 

    _Just forget. Forget about it. It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t fucking matter._ He repeated the words over in his mind as his hands shook. If he convinced himself it didn’t matter then maybe the heavy feeling in his chest would go away. Maybe then he would finally be able to breathe and not feel like his heart was being stabbed continuously.

 

    Jean knew Marco liked girls. He knew he had a girlfriend before. Even Eren said Marco was never usually single. He knew all of this. So why did it feel so different? Why did he actually think he had a chance? Why was he so fucked up in the head that he would actually think maybe just _maybe_ Marco could even _think_ of him like that?

 

    Clammy cold hands ran through fading black hair and grasped at it desperately. The pain made him feel relieved, like the heartbreak wasn’t that bad. But he knew it was only temporary.

 

    Knowing Marco liked girls and actually physically _seeing_ him _with_ a girl were two completely different things. It was like seeing a Marco he didn’t recognize. A Marco would smile like that fucking gorgeous smile to someone else besides Jean. A Marco who let someone else into his personal space. A Marco who cared about someone much more than he could ever care about Jean.

 

    Jean hadn’t even realized it but there were tears streaming down his face. They were thick and warm against his burning cheeks, which contrasted entirely with his clammy numb fingers.

 

    “Jean?” His mother knocked on his bedroom door.

 

    The fourteen-year-old’s eyes shot open and he quickly rubbed at his eyes, trying to wipe the tears away.

 

    “H-Hold up!” He wiped his snot on his sleeves and took a deep breath. It hurt. It hurt to breathe still, the crushing feeling never having left from his chest, but he had to get over it, at least for the moment. He couldn’t afford to make his mother worry more than she already did.

 

    Jean’s mom cracked open the door and poked her head through, “Mon petit champignon, what are you doing up here? The party is downstairs, all your friends are down there looking for you.”

 

    “What friends? We both know you just invited them over so I wouldn’t be alone. They don’t even _like_ me…no one likes me.”

 

    Clara’s eyebrows softened and a frown formed upon her aging features. “Oh Jean…” She walked through the door and wrapped her arms around Jean. She settled her head on top of her son’s head and patted it. “Why would you think that?”

 

    Jean’s could feel the tears threatening to fall but held them back. “B-Because I’m not who everyone wants me to be. I’m not cool, I’m just a stupid middle schooler with braces and acne and big ears. No one can ever…ever like me. I’m unlovable!!”

 

    His mother pulled back to look at her son in the eyes and shook her head, “Jean Pierre, do you honestly believe that? Do you think you’ll always be fourteen? You may feel uncomfortable in your own skin now but it won’t always be like that.” Her hands cupped Jean’s face, brushed his shaggy hair out of his face and kissed his forehead. “All of this is only temporary. I know you’re going through something even if you won’t tell me. Just know that I love you so, _so_ very much and one day, you’ll love yourself too. And then someone very lucky will love you even more. But for now, don’t worry about what anyone thinks of you. Whoever thinks ill is not worth your time and ils peuvent tous aller chier.”

 

    Jean would be lying if he said the weight on his chest wasn’t mitigated slightly. He looked up at his mom and suddenly felt extremely grateful for having an understanding mother like her. He wrapped his arms around her waist and hugged her tight.

 

    “Merci, ma. I needed that…”

 

    Clara caressed her son’s hair and smiled softly, “You know you don’t have to tell me everything if you don’t want to, but I will always be here when you need me. Tu es mon fils et je t’aime. Now go enjoy the party.”

 

    Jean stepped back and gave his mother the most genuine smile he could muster up, “Okay, ma, I will.”

 

* * *

 

    As much as Jean didn’t want to admit it, the party wasn’t actually that bad. Sure he didn’t agree with the music but hey, at least it was danceable. Not that he danced…much. Well, enough that he got tired out a bit and left “dance floor” to get some soda at the back of the basement.

 

    He had bent down and grabbed a can out of the cooler when he heard a deep, husky voice ask: “Hey, you’re Eren’s kid brother, right?”

 

    Jean turned to face the tall, muscular blond next to him and pressed his back against the wall, suddenly feeling incredibly uncomfortable.

 

    “What happened? Cat got your tongue?” The older teen joked.

 

    _Eren’s fucking dumbass jock friends can’t stay out of my shit for two seconds._ Jean sighed and attempted to push past the seventeen-year-old linebacker. Unfortunately, Jean hadn’t counted on the blond having other annoying friends.

 

    “Yo, Ymir, the Eren’s lil’ bro is over here. Check him out!”

 

    Jean’s eyes shifted to the freckled girl walking towards him. He remembered meeting Marco’s older cousin once when he and Marco had gone snowboarding.

 

    “Hey, shorty, haven’t seen you in a while. Didn’t think Reiner would get to you before I did,” Ymir smirked as she blocked Jean between her body and Reiner’s. She ruffled his hair and snorted. “You even dyed your fucking hair, holy shit you’re so emo.”

 

    Reiner’s face suddenly got really close to Jean’s, making him shift uncomfortably. “You don’t _look_ like Eren.” Jean scrunched his nose as he smelled a hint of alcohol in Reiner’s breath.

 

    Ymir elbowed Reiner in the side and rolled her eyes, “It’s cuz their stepbrothers, you fucking Neanderthal.”

 

     The blond made a face but chuckled anyway.

 

    “Um…where’d you get the alcohol?” Jean asked without really even meaning to. It’s not like he necessarily _cared_ or anything.

 

    The tall blond grinned deviously, “Why? You interested?”

 

    “Reiner…don’t bully him too much…” A deep voice came from behind Reiner.

 

    Jean twisted to see an incredibly tall teen with black hair and a worrisome look on his face.

 

    “I ain’t bullying him, Bertl. The kid’s just lookin’ for some booze and I’m just tryin’ to help him out.”

 

    “I don’t actually want any.” The fourteen-year-old said as-a-matter-of-factly.

 

    Jean immediately regretted speaking up when Reiner wrapped an arm around his neck and had him in a headlock.

 

    “Ah, come on, no need to lieee~ I’ve been in your shoes, I know what it’s like being underage and wanting some quality booze.”  Reiner let out a boisterous laughter that was muffled by the loud music.

 

    Ymir rolled her eyes, “Reiner, you’re _still_ underage.”

 

    “Shut up, dyke,” the blond said as he continued to harass Jean.

 

    Bertholdt apologized to Ymir on Reiner’s behalf but his apologies fell on deaf ears, mostly because Ymir didn’t care and Jean was one step from being strangled.

 

    “Reiner, leave him alone!” A familiar voice echoed through Jean’s ears.

 

    Jean glanced to the side and saw the last person he ever wanted to see.

 

    “Heyyyy, Christa! Jean and I are just havin’ a little fun. Ain’t that right, Jeanny?” Reiner said as he tugged at Jean’s neck again.

 

    Christa frowned and furrowed her eyebrows, “It doesn’t look like Jean’s enjoying it very much.”

 

    “That’s a matter of opinion.”

 

    The tiny blonde huffed and crossed her arms, “Marco is going to come over and see you guys bullying Eren’s brother and he’s not going to like it.”

 

    “Marco needs to lighten up too,” Reiner began to muss up Jean’s fading black hair.

 

    “ _Reiner_ ,” Christa warned.

 

    The muscular teen reluctantly let Jean go and held his hands up as if to surrender. “Fine, fine. You win, princess.”

 

    Reiner grabbed a red solo cup Bertholdt had been holding for him and chugged it before walking towards the group of bodies at the middle of the basement floor, dancing haphazardly.

 

    Christa pressed a hand to Jean’s back, “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

 

    Jean honestly just wanted to smack her hand away and tell her to fuck off, but he couldn’t find the balls to actually do it. This was Marco’s girlfriend he was talking about. No matter how much he disliked her, being rude to her would only ensure Marco’s anger.

 

    “Reiner always takes things too far,” the blonde girl said as she shook her head. She smiled at him softly and it made Jean’s face heat up much to his chagrin. “I’m glad you’re fine, though. I was worried Reiner might have hurt you or something terrible like that.”

 

    _God!! Can’t you just fucking let me HATE you!? Stop being so freakin’ nice, goddamn it!!_ Jean wanted to bang his head against the wall out of frustration.

 

    “Don’t worry about him too much, freshy. He can take care of himself. I mean, he _does_ live with Eren,” Ymir said from her spot on the wall.

 

    Christa gave her a disapproving look, “But he’s Marco friend. We should stick up for him!”

 

    Jean noticed Ymir give the blonde a look he couldn’t quite put his finger on, but before he could figure it out, the freckled girl pushed herself off the wall and shoved her hands into her pockets.

 

    “That girl scout attitude is probably how you won Marco over, huh?”

 

    Christa’s face turned beet red, “T-That’s none of your concern!”

 

    Ymir shrugged, “Whatever, blondie.”

 

    Just as the seventeen-year-old teen walked away, a similar freckled teen came over and wrapped an arm around Christa.

 

    “Hey, what happened? Did I miss anything?” Marco asked as he held a red solo cup in his other hand.

 

    Jean made eye contact with Christa and gave her the whole don’t-you-dare-tell-him look. So the blonde girl just smiled and shook her head.

 

    “Nope! Jean and I were just talking about school since he’ll be starting high school soon. Right, Jean?”

 

    _You’re such a good liar, holy shit._ Jean would have complimented her had she not been his crush’s girlfriend.

 

    “Oh that’s right, you’ll be going to our school in a few months. Are you excited?” Marco smiled wide.

 

    Jean shrugged, “I guess? Just kinda tired of middle school and all so, yeah, high school should be fun.”

 

    “Ah, don’t worry. Just two more months and you’ll be free.” The older teen laughed a little too hard, which made Jean wondered if he too had some alcohol to drink.

 

    A new song came on and Christa’s eyes widened, “Oh my gosh, I _love_ this song!!”

 

    Marco set his cup down on a table and grabbed her hand, “All right then, I guess it’s time to dance!”

 

    The giggly couple made their way to the dance floor and disappeared among the crowd of people, leaving Jean by the cooler with his can of soda, which wasn’t even cold anymore.

 

    Jean sighed as he felt that familiar tight feeling in his chest. He quickly shook his head and slapped a hand on either cheek.

 

    “Don’t think about it, Kirschtein. Tonight is your night, don’t ruin it.” He told himself as he walked around the basement.

 

    He found an empty beanbag and promptly sat down, suddenly feeling incredibly tired.

 

    “Hey, you’re Jean, right?”

 

    Jean turned to see a bald teen around his age sitting in the beanbag next to his.

 

    “I’m Connie! Nice party ya got going here,” the boy grinned.

 

    “Uh, thanks?”

 

    “No problem! Oh hey, I know we probably don’t know each other but my mom made me bring a gift anyway, so uh, happy birthday?” Connie said as he handed Jean a card.

 

    The fourteen-year-old opened the card and taped to the inside was a gift card to Hot Topic. Jean’s eyes nearly bulged out of his head.

 

    “Dude, seriously!?”

 

    “You don’t like it?” Connie frowned.

 

    “Hell yeah, I like it, holy shit. How’d you even know I shopped there?”

 

    Connie laughed, “I dunno man, I usually see you at school and junk and you’re always wearing something black so I figured you were into that kinda stuff. I usually go to Zumiez to get stuff for my skateboard and Hot Topic is right next door so I figured I’d get you something from there. Hope that’s not weird or anything.”

 

    “Wait, you have a skateboard!?”

 

    “Uh, yeah?”

 

     Jean was practically jumping in his seat, “I’ve always wanted a skateboard.”

 

     “I can, like, show it to you one day? Are you free after school on Monday?”

 

    Jean nodded excitedly.

 

    “All right, cool. Wanna walk to the park after school? It’s not that far.” Connie offered.

 

    “Definitely!” Jean couldn’t help but smile.

 

    He was so happy he completely forgot about Marco and Christa, and thankfully he was too busy to see how Marco wrapped his arms around the blonde girl’s waist as they slow danced. Then again, ignorance is bliss.

 

    At least Jean made a friend. It made his night a hell of a lot better and for once, he didn’t feel alone. Maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t the end of the world.

 

    Maybe he’d be…okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tbh, it was supposed to be a LOT sadder, but I couldn't do that to poor dweeby Jean. So Connie came to the rescue :3 Which helps usher in the next chapter.  
> ALSO!!: Time skip/progression/growing-up-montage will happen in Chapter 11 for sure!! So hope you look forward to that ^.^
> 
> Translation:  
> "ils peuvent tous aller chier"--"They can go fuck themselves"  
> "Tu es mon fils et je t’aime"--"You are my son and I love you"


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean didn't feel any different than when he was thirteen. But maybe fourteen came along with some wisdom, some new friendships, and maybe just a bit of growing up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys never fail to bring a smile to my face. I honestly feel so grateful for every single comment, every kudo, every hit that this fic gets. Even though I hadn't updated in almost 4 months, you've all been there for me and have stuck with this fic no matter what. And for that, I am SUPER thankful for.
> 
> Also!! I'd like to give a SPECIAL thanks to [dedicatedtonothing](http://dedicatedtonothing.tumblr.com) for their AMAZING [fanart](http://dedicatedtonothing.tumblr.com/post/94244705913/you-could-end-wars-with-that-look-jesusss-i-did) of the swing set scene from Chapter 7 and of [Jean's wet dream!](http://dedicatedtonothing.tumblr.com/post/94651837852/into-corny-daydreams-about-marco-about-holding)
> 
> I'd also like to thank [luckyfurball](http://luckyfurball.tumblr.com) for their SUPER CUTE AF [FANART](http://luckyfurball.tumblr.com/post/95176768031/middle-schooler-jean-and-high-schooler-marco-from) of the swing set scene as well!!!
> 
> I'm so blessed to have amazing readers as you guys, and again, thank you so much for your support!!

    The locker door slammed a lot harder than Jean had intended it to. He slung his backpack over one shoulder and used his other hand to readjust his red beanie onto his head. 

 

    “Yo, you ready?” Connie asked as he leaned against the lockers.

 

    “Yeah, I’m good. Got your board?”

 

    The bald teen grinned and lifted his skateboard in his hand, “You know I’d never forget this baby anywhere.”

 

    Jean snorted, a little too hard in fact, causing him to let out a loud sneeze. Connie practically scurried away and shielded his skateboard with his body. 

 

    The two-toned teen wiped his nose with his sleeve and looked at his friend with an incredulous expression. “Shit, Conn, I barely even sneezed near her and you’re acting like I can infect her with the plague.” 

 

    “Hey, Molly is a beautiful board! I gotta keep her safe and keep the germs away.”

 

    Jean rolled his eyes, “You’re so fucking weird, dude.” 

 

    “You’ll understand when you fall in love,” Connie said nonchalantly. 

 

    Jean’s stomach knotted itself and he suddenly felt incredibly nauseous. He dug his hands into the pockets of his hoodie and began walking towards the exit. 

 

    “No fucking thank you. I don’t need feelings like that. Feelings fucking suck.” 

 

    The shorter teen cocked an eyebrow as he followed his friend out the door, “Whatever you say, man.” 

 

    Jean kept his head forward as his feet carried him to the one place he’d been holing himself up for the past few weeks. After Connie invited him the first time after his birthday, Jean made it a habit to visit the skatepark after school every day. It helped him clear his head and keep his thoughts away from _that_ place. That place that sucked him into a vortex of negative emotions and self-loathing. He didn’t need to be in _that_ place, not now that he was making a friend. A friend who wasn’t _him._

 

    “Hey man, you good?” Connie asked, eyebrows upturned into a quizzical expression.

 

    Jean shook his head, shaking himself out of his thoughts. He hadn’t realized he had stopped right in his tracks. “I’m good, just got lost thinking ‘bout stuff.”

 

    Because that was Jean’s thing. Overthinking. It was part of his DNA. 

 

    He followed his short friend to the ramps where other older teenagers, and some his age, were riding their own skateboards. Jean’s heartbeat sped up and his eyes practically began to sparkle. He couldn’t fight the smile that spread on his face. No matter how many times he visited the skatepark behind his school it made him incredibly excited and anxious, although not entirely in a bad way. He longed for the day he could ride his own board up and down the half pipes, but at the same time he knew he wouldn’t be very good at it. He imagined feeling a skateboard under his feet, rolling his body down a ramp, the wind blowing through his hair, which had practically returned back to his tawny color. He imagined the adrenaline coursing through his veins as he would attempt a few advanced tricks, flipping his board, curling it under his feet, jumping through the air. And almost instantly, Jean imagined falling. He imagined slipping on his board, kicking it from under his feet, tripping on the ramp, scraping his knees and falling flat on his face. He imagined the laughter coming from the other, more advanced skaters. He imagined Connie standing over him with an amused look on his face, regretting even trying to be friends with him.

 

    And exactly then, Jean lost any and all excitement. 

 

    This always happened. He’d be feeling ecstatic and lively over the idea of skateboarding, and then within seconds his mind would be filled with negative thoughts that suddenly made him dread even getting near the skatepark. Partially the reason why he never skated on his own, besides the fact that he didn’t have his own board. 

 

    _I’m just going to make an ass out of myself,_ he’d tell himself. He’d get to the skatepark and just sit on the sidelines as he watched Connie skate up and down the ramp with other just as cool skater kids. This was just a habit. A repetition of what he’d been going through for the past week. It was just going to be the same thing over again. 

 

    Except, he hadn’t counted on Connie breaking his cycle. 

 

    Just as Jean had settled himself on the ground a few feet away from the half pipe, Connie walked up to him, Molly under his arm, ready to go. 

 

    “Are you just gonna sit there again?”

 

    Jean looked taken aback, clearly not expecting his friend’s—could he really call him a friend yet?—question. 

 

    “W-What do you mean?” Jean asked. 

 

    Connie rolled his eyes, “Come on, man, you’re not fooling anyone. I invited you out here so we could skate, not so that you’d sit here every day and mope.”

 

    “Mope??” Jean’s eyes widened and his ears flushed, fully knowing he had just been called out.

 

    “Yeah, man, like I know you’ve probably got a lot on your mind but that’s exactly why you’re here. People come to the skatepark to skate freely, to just clear their heads and ride their boards without anything to hold them down. That’s why you gotta skate with me, Jean. Ya gotta empty your head and stop thinking for once.” 

 

    Jean’s mouth gaped opened, not entirely comprehending what he was being told. He was simply in shock. This kid…this shortie he had just met a week before had literally just read him like an open book and called him out on his shit so fast. Connie was much more perceptive than Jean had given him credit for. He was seeing him in a new light. 

 

    “I would, I just, uh, don’t know how to skate,” Jean said searching for excuses. 

 

    “I’ll teach you.”

 

    “Um, I-I’m not wearing the right shoes!”

 

    Connie quirked an eyebrow, “Dude, you’re wearing converses. You’re good.”

 

    Jean bit his lip. “I…I don’t have a skateboard.”

 

    The grin on Connie’s face widened beyond what Jean thought was possible. “Well you’re in luck. Molly’s been itching to let you ride her for _days_.”

 

    “….What?”

 

    Connie lifted his precious board and offered it to Jean, “I’ll let you ride on Molly. I mean, until you get your own board of course.”

 

    The golden-eyed teen glanced skeptically back and forth between his bald friend and his skateboard. “Conn…Molly’s your _girl._ You won’t even let anyone _look_ at her. 

 

    “Aren’t ya glad you’re not just anyone?” Connie smirked and placed Molly in Jean’s hands. “Now get your butt onto that ramp and let’s fucking skate!”

 

    Jean took the board and felt the insane urge to hug Connie. He didn’t know the other teen very well, but he was starting to feel that maybe, just maybe, they could end up being very good friends. 

 

    Jean stood up and walked hesitantly to the ramp that had less skaters on it. He gently placed Molly on the ramp and put a foot on top. Connie stood relatively close but made sure to gave him enough space to figure out his balance. 

 

    “Okay, so I’m not sure if you’ve balanced on a board before but it’s all about keeping your center of gravity, ya know? Like, keep your legs apart and bend your knees a bit, ‘kay?”

 

    The two-toned teen nodded and did as he was told. Just as he did, a memory suddenly entered his mind. An image of solid snow around him and a snowboard beneath his feet. A cool breeze blew past Jean, evoking goosebumps and shivers down his spine. A vague recollection immediately became a detailed memory that Jean had forgotten about. He could practically feel that warm hand ruffling his hair, that bright smile on freckled features, that deep caramel voice telling him he did a good job. The memory of the snowboarding trip he had taken with Marco and his family a few months ago had suddenly become so clear. So much had happened that it almost felt like it was years ago. 

 

    Before Jean lost himself too deep in his thoughts, he remembered Connie’s words. _People come to the skatepark to skate freely, to just clear their heads and ride their boards without anything to hold them down. That’s why you gotta skate._  

 

    _Skate._

 

    And with that, he pushed off with one foot and before he knew it, he clenched his eyes shut and the board rolled down the ramp. 

 

    The chill wind blew against his face, his beanie threatening to fly off, but he didn’t care. His body felt light and _free._

 

    It was a quick descent, but Jean knew he didn’t want to stop. He grabbed Molly and hoped off the ramp, getting to leveled ground and began to skate with less hesitation this time. He didn’t give himself enough time to doubt his movements; he simply copied the moves he remembered seeing Connie do. He kept his knees bent and his body steady as he skated around the park. Jean’s right foot shifted, angling the board to a side, swerving around the ground, making Jean’s heart beat rapidly. 

 

    Jean then heard a series of whistles and claps coming from behind him, near where Connie had been standing. He turned took a foot off the board and turned to look at where the cheers were coming from. The other skaters in the park had stopped what they were doing and had congregated to the other side of the half-pipe ramp. Jean watched as Connie cupped his hands around his mouth. 

 

    “Why’d you stop, man!?” The bald teen had called out. 

 

    Jean felt his ears heat up, “What the fuck is going on!?”

 

    A tall, older teen—if he even _was_ in his teens—called out to Jean, “You were doing amazingly, little dude!”

 

    Jean frowned. This is exactly what he didn’t want to happen. He knew they were going to make fun of him. He was so stupid for thinking he could actually skateboard. 

 

    He picked up Molly and walked towards Connie, set on handing him back his board. 

 

    “What happened? Why are you all mad?” Connie asked with a confused look on his face. 

 

    Jean shoved Molly into Connie’s chest, “I knew you were all gonna make fun of me. I know I can’t fucking skate, I didn’t need to feel shittier about it…”

 

    “Whoa, little dude, that’s not it at all,” the tall, long-haired teen told Jean. “My buds and I have seen you coming to the park lately and we were all just wondering if you were ever going to actually skate. And, well, you finally did and I dunno, it was exciting? It’s like you’re finally growing up and walking on ya own.”

 

    Jean narrowed his eyes and scrunched his eyebrows in confusion. He literally didn’t even _know_ these guys and they’re talking about being proud of him and shit? It didn’t make any sense to him at all. 

 

    Connie nudged Molly back into Jean’s hands, “Jean, they mean well. They’re chill guys and I know you don’t know them, hell, _I_ don’t even know them, but I know they’re being honest. Same with me. You were legit doing awesome for a starter! Just…go back out there, man. These guys will help teach you some tricks and stuff. We’re here to help. We’re friends, aren’t we?” 

 

    Jean felt his anger dissipate and a warm feeling spread about his chest. _Friends._

 

The long-haired stranger and a few other older teenagers with beanies and oversized hoodies patted Jean on the back, complimented him on his skateboarding. 

 

    Their words made Jean puff up with pride and for once, he was feeling pretty good about himself. It was nice not hating himself, it had been a while since he felt like he was doing something right for once. 

 

    The group of skater kids migrated over to the half-pipe and a few got on with their boards, motioning for Jean to join them.

 

    “Come on, kid, we’ll teach you how to do aerials!”

 

    “Nah man, he’s gotta start off easy first.”

 

    “Little dude, I’ll show you how to do an Ollie!!”

    Jean would be lying if he said he wasn’t feeling a bit overwhelmed but he also felt a sense of…belonging. 

 

    “Are you okay with learning a few tricks, Jean?” Connie asked him.

 

    The two-toned teen shook his head almost too excitedly, “Hell fucking yeah!”

 

    Connie grinned, “Welcome to the skate life, my friend. Enjoy your stay.”

 

* * *

 

    Jean threw himself onto his bed and let out a giant satisfied sigh.

 

    He was beyond exhausted and had a few bruises and scabs along his calves and knees. If he had ever thought learning how to skateboard was going to be easy, he had been _extremely_ wrong. Jean had no problem with grasping the basics, he was practically a natural at it. He even surprised himself with how well he skated on his first few tries. But once the guys tried teaching him how to do a intricate tricks, Jean’s self-esteem dropped about 21937318 percent. 

 

    Feeling a bit overconfident and motivated, Jean thought he could perform any trick the older teens had taught him. Of course, life could never be nice to Jean so in a good five seconds flat he went from capable, optimistic Jean to a Jean with bruised legs and an even more bruised pride. 

 

    But it was all not as dreadful as Jean would have imagined. Even though he was embarrassed out of his mind, the other skaters took it in stride and just helped him get back up to his feet. Connie especially seemed to always be there when he needed a hand and it made the whole experience less humiliating for Jean and more so soothing, knowing he could rely on others. 

 

    Jean looked up at his ceiling, thoughts of the day’s activities swimming around in his head. Life felt good right about now. For once, Jean wasn’t feeling anxious about anything. And that…that made everything worthwhile.

 

* * *

 

    It was nearly dinner time when Jean opened his eyes to a darkened room and an aching neck. He looked around the room and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. His stomach growled, signaling to Jean that sustenance was needed. 

 

    Jean shuffled his way out of his room, still groggy from his nap but somehow made it down the stairs. The smell of food was strong and infiltrated Jean’s nostrils, making his stomach growl even louder. 

 

    “Mhmmm,” the teen hummed as a pleased smile appeared on his face at the thought of food. 

 

     His feet carried him into the kitchen where he found his mother working over the stove. 

 

    Jean’s mother turned around and greeted her teenage son with a smile, “Bonsoir, belle au bois dormant.”

 

    “Hi, maman. What’s for dinner?” The two-toned teen asked as he lazily slumped into a chair and rested his head on the table. 

 

    “I am just about finish with the pea soup. The Ragoût de Boulettes are still boiling so it might take another ten minutes or so.”

 

    “Mm.” Jean nodded. “Can we have crepes for dessert tonight, ma?”

 

    Clara smiled softly, wiped her hands on her apron and walked over to her son. She patted his head, brushing his messy hair to one side, and kissed his forehead. “Anything for my petit champignon.”

 

    Normally Jean would swat her hand away out of embarrassment but for some reason, he failed to care this time around.

 

    “Ah, that reminds me! Can you go tell your brother that dinner is almost ready and to wash his hands? Also ask him if his friend wants to stay for dinner.”

 

    Jean groaned as he thought to himself, _Eren has his dumbass friends over AGAIN?_

 

The fourteen-year-old trudged down to the basement and prepared himself for any smartass comments Eren and his friend, who was no doubt some meathead from the football team, were going to make about him. Like always. 

 

    Jean announced his presence by tapping his knuckles against the wall.  “Hey, Eren, my mom said dinner’s almost rea—”

 

    He froze once he reached the last step on the staircase. Eren hadn’t even turned around from his position on a beanbag, eyes still focused intently on the tv screen. But his friend…his friend had his attention fully on Jean. This friend wasn’t ignoring Jean, he wasn’t even taunting him. And this friend, was exactly the last person Jean wanted to see. 

 

    “Jean! How’s it going?” Marco smiled brightly as he got up from his beanbag. 

 

    The younger teen suddenly felt like he couldn’t breathe. 

 

    No. This couldn’t be happening. He had had a wonderful day today. He had finally been able to push thoughts of Marco out of his mind. He had finally been at peace. This couldn’t happen to him right now. It just wasn’t _fair_.

 

    Marco walked up to him with a concerned look on his face when he didn’t reply. “Jean? Are you okay?”

 

    The freckled teen reached out a hand to settle onto Jean’s shoulder but Jean quickly dodged it, bringing a slight frown to Marco’s face. 

 

    “Uh, sorry, I just woke up. Still sleepy and all…” Jean shoved his hands into his pockets, trying to hide how hard he was shaking. 

 

    “No, it’s okay. Your mom told me you’ve been studying late at school.”

 

    Oh yeah, that _had_ been the excuse Jean gave his mother.

 

    “Um, yeah…”

 

    Marco smiled once again. _God, does he ever not smile?_ Jean found himself thinking.

 

    “I just wanted to see how you were doing. See if you’re enjoying your present and if you maybe wanted to play together and—”

 

    “How’s Christa?” Jean interrupted him.

 

    “Hm?” Marco was caught off guard by the sudden change in topic.

 

    “Are you guys still…good?” 

 

    “Good?” Marco seemed confused at first but when the realization of what Jean meant hit him, his expression lit up. “Oh! Yeah, we still are. She’s just hanging out with some of the girls on her cheer squad tonight.”

 

    _She’s a fucking CHEERLEADER. Jesus fucking Christ._ Jean wanted to slam his head against the wall. Of course she’d be perfect. Of fucking course.

 

    “That’s nice,” Jean said, really wanted to just turn on his heel and leave and never see Marco ever again. 

 

    But obviously that wasn’t an option. 

 

    Sounds from Eren’s video game filled the room, assuaging the awkward silence that followed Jean and Marco’s conversation. 

 

    Marco scratched the back of his head looking for things to say, not quite catching on to the fact that Jean didn’t exactly want to have a conversation. 

 

    “So how’s fourteen treating you?”

 

    Jean glanced down at the ground, careful not to stare at Marco for too long. 

 

   “It’s fine. Not much different from being thirteen, I guess.”

 

    “High school’s just around the corner though, huh?” Marco asked as he thoughtlessly began to step closer to Jean. “If you want, maybe Christa and I can show you around our school and give you a sneak peek at what to look forward to in a few months.”

 

    The two-toned teen nodded slowly, backing up into a wall. 

 

    Jean sensed Marco getting closer to him. Usually his lack of personal space wasn’t a problem for Jean, and most times it was even welcomed. But knowing he had a girlfriend, knowing he didn’t feel the same way, knowing that none of this meant anything to him, Jean couldn’t allow himself to fall prey to Marco’s charms again. Not when he had finally found a way to get over him. 

 

    All of a sudden the room tempterature dropped dramatically. Goosebumps appeared on Jean’s forearms and the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. 

 

    _Get over him?_

 

    Jean hadn’t really thought of it like that before. 

 

    Did he really want to get over Marco? Was that really something he wanted?

 

    When he thought about it, that _is_ what it seemed to escalate to. He had ignored Marco’s texts, avoided seeing him at all costs, going as far as to deliberately staying late at the skate park just so he didn’t have to be at home. And the whole reason why he genuinely enjoyed skating was _because_ of how it helped him clear his mind. 

 

    Even now, the last thing Jean wanted to do was look at Marco. Because looking at Marco meant feeling his heartbeat erratically. Because after his cheeks flushed and his heart thrummed against his ribcage, his chest would tighten and his throat would run dry. Because then he’d remember that Marco was never going to look at him the way Jean wanted him to. Because then he had to accept that this love would always remain unrequited. 

 

    “Jean?”

 

    Jean’s eyes moved back into focus and he noticed his freckled friend looking at him with a worried expression on his face. 

 

    The amber-eyed teen quickly slipped out from his position against the wall and pressed a foot onto the first step of the staircase. 

 

    “I can’t,” were the only words that Jean could formulate. Those were the only words that he could translate over from his jumbled thoughts. 

 

    Marco’s eyebrows knit together, “You can’t?”

 

    Jean shook his head, “Sorry…I can’t. I just…I-I can’t.” He turned and ran up the stairs as fast as he could, trying to get away from the basement, away from _Marco_ , as soon as possible. 

 

    He ran haphazardly to the main entrance, quickly searching for his converse to put on.

 

    “Jean, tu vas où?” He heard his mom call out from the kitchen. 

 

    “Quelque part.” Jean opened the door and ran outside.

 

    The cool air immediately hit his lungs and just as instantly calmed his nerves. 

 

    He didn’t have a place to go. He couldn’t drive, and he didn’t have any close friends he could visit.

 

    So he went to the one place he knew he could count on.

 

* * *

 

    Jean sat on the half-pipe and traced the dents that the ramp had no doubt accumulated over its years of use. 

 

    He heard footsteps tapping against the concrete.

 

    “Dude…are you okay?”

 

    “Huh?” Jean glanced up at Connie, “Yeah, sorry for calling you out so late, man.”

 

    The bald teen sat next to the taller teen and let out a heavy breath. 

 

    “I just, uh, I just had a lot of fun today. I didn’t want to leave, haha…” Jean forced out a laugh.

 

    Connie rolled his eyes. “Jean, you don’t have to lie. I don’t know you very well but I’m not dumb, ya know.”

 

    Jean bit his lip, automatically regretting the facade he was trying to put on. 

 

    The two sat in silence, letting the wind blow chill air between them. The sun had long since set and they wouldn’t even be able to see each other were it not for the two street lamps by the gate to the skate park. 

 

    “Do you, like, wanna talk and stuff? I mean, that’s usually why someone texts their friends to meet them in the middle of the night at a skatepark. Unless you need help hiding a body or something.” Connie said with a small smirk on his face.

 

    “How do you do that?”

 

    “Do what?”

 

    “Just…make things okay? I haven’t even said anything and you’re already fucking _helping_ me. What the fuck.” Jean ran a hand through his hair.

 

    Connie shrugged, “Dunno. I just don’t like when my friends are upset so I try to lighten the situation with humor, I guess.”

 

    Jean shook his head, “Well you’re pretty fucking good at it.”

 

    “Thanks, it’s how I compensate for the height.” Connie said, earning him a playful shove from Jean.

 

    The taller teen sighed, “I’m not gonna go into the details but it’s…kinda gay.” He glanced at Connie, trying to gauge his reaction. The expression on his face just told him to continue. So he did. “Well…it’s about someone I like.”

 

    Jean could’ve sworn he heard Connie whisper “oh shit, leveling up the social link” but he couldn’t be too sure. So he just shook his head and continued.

 

    “I met, um, _them_ a few months ago. I didn’t think we’d get along since they’re kinda sorta my stepbrother’s friend.”

 

    Connie’s eyes widened, “An _older_ chick!?”

 

    “Uh…y-yeah. Anyway, we like hung out a lot when Eren wasn’t around and, I don’t know, somewhere along the way I ended up falling for them. I didn’t _mean_ to, it just sorta happened. And like, shit, I just like them so much. But…”

 

    “But?”

 

    “They don’t like me back.”

 

    “Well you don’t know that. If she’s been hanging out with you all this time then you’ve gotta mean _something_ to her, right?”

 

    There Connie went with the female pronouns. Not like Jean was going to correct him. That was a conversation for another time, assuming he ever _did_ tell Connie the truth.

 

    “I thought we hit it off but, a few weeks ago they kinda…got with someone already.”

 

    Connie looked perplexed. “Wait, ‘got with’ as in hooked up or like going out?”

 

    “Going out.”

 

    “Well shit.”

 

    Jean hung his head, “Exactly.”

 

    “Did you tell her how you feel about her at least?”

 

    “I thought about it but honestly, I just…I just wanna get over it already. I don’t want to feel this way anymore. When I skated today, it was the first time I’ve been able to forget about hi—them. I was finally _forgetting_. But then fucking Eren had to bring hi—them over to the house and, fuck, it just…it’s frustrating. I’m just so tired of it. Tired of everything. I just wanna skate, and listen to music, and hang out with you and make more friends. That’s all I want. I don’t want them.”

 

    “Then fuck her.”

 

    Jean nearly choked on his own spit. “W-What!?”

 

    Connie folded his arms, “Well, not like _fuck_ -fuck her, I just meant like screw it, forget about her. If she’s off with some other guy, then you don’t need chase after her like some puppy. Do your own thing, man. Get board, make that your woman. Like me and Molly!”

 

    “That’s it? That’s all you’re gonna say?”

 

    “Yeah? Why?”

 

    “Nothing it’s just…I’ve been killing myself over this for _weeks_ and all you say is to forget about it. Like it’s an easy thing to do.”

 

    “I never said it was easy, not like I’d know if it was or not. All I mean is concentrate on something else. Dude, we’re only _fourteen_. So what if you’re horny for some high school chick now? You won’t always be. So just, I dunno, forget about it. Ya feel?”

 

    Jean stared at his bald friend incredulously. As insane as his words sounded, Jean was pretty sure Connie had a point. The relief he felt was no doubt proof of that.

 

    Connie stood up and reached out a hand to Jean. “So how about we make your new goal to you your own fucking board?” 

 

    Jean took the offered hand and pulled himself up off the ramp. “I say hell-fucking-yeah!”

 

    “That’s exactly what I wanted to hear,” the shorter teen grinned.

 

    The April of Jean’s fourteenth year came and went in the blink of an eye and yet, he’d say it was one of the most memorable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to my own personal little [French Canadian Dweeb](http://justpabulous.tumblr.com) for these wonderful translations!!
> 
> Translations:  
> Bonsoir, belle au bois dormant--Good morning, sleeping beauty.  
> Ragoût de Boulettes--spicy meatballs  
> Tu vas où?--Where are you going?  
> Quelque part--Somewhere
> 
>  
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!! I hope to have the next chapter up by Thanksgiving, but that's only if college decides to be nice to be for at least one month TToTT
> 
> Until next time, guys!!


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean wasn't sure what to feel after his first heartbreak, but he didn't expect for this emotional rollercoaster. But he was slowly finding himself and his way through the uncertainties of his teenage years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all! I know, it's almost been 3 years since I last updated :(  
> For everyone following my tumblr, you all know that I've been suffering from anxiety and depression in recent years and it's been really tough getting my motivation back.  
> But I decided to just try and pick up where I left off, so here it is. A long ass chapter with a time skip, or several.  
> For anyone who's still reading, thank you so much for all the support I've received over the past 3 years. It's been tough but you all have made me feel so loved and encouraged.  
> Without further ado, here's the new chapter!

_July 4, 2012_

 

Jean didn’t really mind the spring time. It wasn’t his _favorite_ month, but it was up there. His birthday happened to be in April so he just automatically felt like he was partial to the entire season as a whole. The _weather,_ however, was the reason he felt like spring just wasn’t his cup of tea. 

 

Thus when the rain stopped pouring, the temperature got warmer, and the days grew longer, Jean found his attitude change. 

 

Never before had he been grateful for the summer. He usually hated the heat since he couldn’t wear his favorite hoodies or his dark skinny jeans unless he wanted to die of heatstroke. Ever since he could remember, Jean just found refuge in his air-conditioned home and would rather stay indoors than go outside and sweat. Every year Eren would go back to school with a dark tan and a toned body from swimming in the pool all summer. Jean, on the other hand, ended up somewhat paler than usual or red from being outdoors for too long, shedding off a second skin like a fucking snake. 

 

This summer, however, seemed to be just what Jean needed. The summer meant no school, no responsibilities, and more daylight, which meant he could hang out and skate all he wanted. Skate with his very own board. A nice ass board he finally bought with his own money from his very first job.

 

That’s right. Jean Kirschtein was now his neighborhood’s very own paperboy. 

 

Everyone said he couldn’t do it. Eren laughed in his face, told him it was the stupidest idea he had ever heard. His mother offered to just buy him a skateboard, worried her son didn’t know the first thing about working. And his stepdad…well he didn’t much care, he just left the decision up to his mom. Connie was the only one who was supportive of him getting a job. He was actually the one who helped _get_ him the job. 

 

One of the guys from the skatepark that Connie talked to had just quit his job as a paperboy since he was going off to college, so the company he worked for was looking for a new hire. Naturally, Connie knew just the person who would be willing to work for shitty pay and in desperate need of money. Someone very much like Jean.

 

And the rest was history. 

 

So Jean cruised down his street on his sleek, black and white skateboard. He was proud of how beautiful his baby was. The top was a plain black color with a sandy texture, which was typical of any skateboard. The bottom, however, was filled with white skulls designed in an almost cartoonish way. There wasn’t a lot of color, just the basic white and black that skulls were usually designed in, but that’s exactly how Jean liked it. Not too much going on, nothing too hard on the eyes, something hypnotizing and calming. Jean loved how everything related to skateboarding was just so uncomplicated and soothing, it helped him clear his mind of any unnecessary thoughts. Which is actually why he took any and every opportunity to skateboard around town, not to mention it took less time than walking so that was a plus.

 

Today Eren was having a Fourth of July party so Jean’s mom was running around getting everything prepared. And of course, who got stuck with grocery shopping? None other than the French-Canadian dweeb with tawny hair. Of course, had his mom had time she probably would’ve done the shopping herself but she had been swamped with killer over-time at the hospital and literally had no time at all. So while she was trying to clean around the house and get the burgers and hot dogs started, Jean was in charge of getting the chips and soda. Not that he was complaining, of course. Grocery shopping meant getting a wad of cash to spend on food, and some essentials—a fuck ton of Twizzlers and Sweet Tarts—for himself. 

 

The wheels skid as he hopped off his board and stepped onto the sidewalk. He picked up his board and tucked it under his arm as he went into the grocery store. Jean snatched up a basket from the entrance of the store and made his way down the soda aisle.

 

Jean walked confidently down the aisle he had come to know very well, quickly grabbed a two-liter bottle ofMountain Dew for himself and three of Coca Cola for everyone else. Next stop: chip aisle.

 

As he casually walked a couple of aisles down, Jean spotted a very familiar bald head.

 

“Ayo!! Connie!!” The fourteen-year-old suddenly got really excited and practically jogged up to meet his friend.

 

The shorter teen turned around and a wide smile spread on his face. “Hey, man! Whatcha doin’?”

 

Jean shrugged, “Nothin’ much, just doing some grocery shopping. How about you? I thought you had to visit some family or something.”

 

“Yeah, we were supposed to but my little sister came down with a cold and passed it onto my brother and my dad just made us stay home.”

 

“That sucks,” Jean said as he adjusted the grip on his basket.

 

Connie suddenly panicked a bit. “Oh, sorry, bro. Am I holding you up from something?”

 

“Nah, I’m just getting some snacks for this party Eren’s having.”

 

“Cool, okay…Hope you have fun, I guess? Unless it blows, then you can total escape to my place. I just got a new game for my PS3 so we can totally do that.” The bald teen grinned.

 

Jean shook his head, “It’s fine, it shouldn’t be too bad. Eren and his loser friends should be outside in the pool most of the time so at least I get the house to myself…kinda.” He shifted from foot to foot, hoping the basket wouldn’t weigh down as much if he didn’t lean too far onto one side. That’s when the idea hit him. “Actually! Are you gonna be doing anything today?”

Connie shrugged, “Not particularly. Why?”

 

“Wanna come over?” Jean said a bit too excitedly. 

 

His friend’s eyes widened, “Wha-For real?”

 

“Yeah, man. Like, I would’ve invited you before but you said you were gonna be away so I figured I’d be alone on this but if you’re free you might as well come over. We can judge Eren’s dumb football crew together.” Jean lifted the basket of soda, “And overdose on Mountain Dew and any other shit we want. My mom gave me like fifty bucks.”

 

Connie was _ecstatic_ , “Holy shit, I’m vibrating. I’m so down for that. Is your mom cool with it, though?”

 

“Come on, Conn, you know my mom loves you. She thinks you’re fucking hilarious.”

 

“Heh, well she’s not _wrong_ ,” Connie smirked. 

 

Jean shoved his friend with his elbow, “Shut up, cocky asshole. Go grab a shit ton of chips and Sweet Tarts, we’re going all out on this bitch.”

 

“Fuck yes!”

 

\------------

 

    Jean had expected a few people outside, a few meatheads crowding around the pool area, laughing over stupid jokes Eren made but he never imagined the music to be blasting or more than a dozen teenagers flooding the entire first floor of the house.

 

The tawny-haired teenager could literally feel his walls vibrating from the rap music his stepbrother was playing outside.

 

“I can’t believe my mom’s okay with this. Like what the actual FUCK!!” Jean pouted as he laid on his bed and scrolled through his phone.

 

Connie shrugged as he peered out the window into the backyard, “I dunno, man. It seems like they’re having fun. Your mom’s just probably happy the house is lively. She seems like a social butterfly herself.”

 

“Fucking classic,” Jean groaned. “Eren always gets what he wants.”

 

The bald teen by the window fought the urge to roll his eyes. “Come on, Jean. You can’t just be pissy all the time. You should try and like go out and have fun. It’ll make you stop hating on Eren so much.”

 

Jean shot up from his laying position, eyebrows knit and mouth wide open in disbelief. “ _Hating_ on _Eren_!? Are you serious?? Conn, you KNOW the shit he puts me through. He and his stupid friends always fucking harass me and whisper behind my back when they think I can’t hear them. I’m allowed to be pissed whenever he’s in _my_ house with his stupid, loud and obnoxious friends.”

 

Connie frowned but said nothing. Instead, he just started to take his t-shirt off and kicked off his converse.

 

“H-Hey, what are you doing!?” Jean said in alarm.

 

“You invited me over so we could have fun, right?” The shorter teen said as he worked on the button of his shorts. 

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Well then I’m gonna have some fun.” Connie pushed his shorts down to his ankles, revealing his Batman-printed boxers. “I feel like going into the pool, so that’s what I’m gonna do.”

 

Jean looked at his friend in incredulity, mouth gaping open like a fish, ears flushed a light pink. He was at a loss for words and just stared at his friend who was currently making his way to the door.

 

“W-Wait!”

 

Connie stopped with his hand on the doorknob, “Yeah?”

 

Jean pressed his lips into a thin like and just let his shoulders drop into a sigh. He pushed himself off his bed and walked to his drawer. He dug through his drawers and found a pair of dark green swim trunks, which he wasted no time in tossing to Connie. 

 

“You can’t go swimming in your boxers. All the girls are gonna see some major shrinkage.”

 

The bald teen grinned, “You got a pair for yourself?”

 

Jean lifted a hand from his drawers and revealed a pair of red trunks. “Way ahead of ya.”

 

The two teens quickly changed into their swim shorts, while staring at opposite sides of the room of course, and practically ran down the stairs and toward the patio. 

 

“Okay, just so you know, I’m gonna ram past people and cannonball right into that huge ass pool of yours and you’re not gonna stop me,” Connie warned.

 

Jean shrugged, “Hey man, it’s not like you can get kicked out of this party. And if it pisses Eren off then I’m wholeheartedly supporting you.”

 

“What a pal,” the bald teen sarcastically murmured.

 

They walked through the screen doors and casually looked around. Tall, older high school teens surrounded the edges of the pool, some dangling their feet in and others completely submerged. Still, others just lingered closer to the house and drank out of red solo cups. The typical high school pool party scene and all that.

 

Jean glanced at Connie and gave him a giant grin, “Looks like this party lacks a kind of _explosive_ element. Don’t you agree, Captain Conrad?”

 

“Aye, Cap’n Jean,” the shorter teen nodded. “Shall I ready the cannons?”

 

“Aye aye, matey. Let ‘em blow these sea waters in three…two…one—”

 

“CANNONBAAAAAAALL!!!!”

 

The two teens ran at full speed, forcing everyone to move out of their way and thus creating a clear area to jump into. Within seconds their bodies splashed into the somewhat chilly pool water, causing it to swash and splatter over the side and onto unsuspecting victims. A series of screams and yelps traveled throughout the backyard, as well as numerous boisterous laughters.

 

The boys came up for air with wide smiles on their faces. 

 

“Fuck YEAH!!” Connie exclaimed as his wet hand high-fived Jean’s own slippery one. “Dude, that was probably the BEST cannonball I’ve ever made. We were so in sync, man. It was like we were like in the _zone_ , ya know?”

 

Jean looked at his friend with an amused look on his face. “Yeah, okay man. Whatever you say.”

 

“I’m being serioussss. It was INCREDIBLE!!!”

 

The tawny-haired teen was sure the sugar rush was getting to Connie, but he wasn’t about to complain. He was actually…having _fun_. Sure, he could practically feel glaring eyes coming from the people he splashed water on, but most of them quickly got over it, probably too drunk to care. So that settled any anxiety Jean may have had.

Of course, that didn’t last too long since Eren came over to the edge of the pool and called him out.

 

“Hey, dickhead! What the _fuck_ was that!?” 

 

Jean turned around and stared at his stepbrother.

 

“You think it’s funny to just jump in and ruin my party!??” Eren’s eyebrows furrowed and he looked like he was about to have an aneurysm. 

 

Jean just continued to stare at him but gave no response, not entirely sure what to do. A part of him was getting anxious, telling him that he shouldn’t have jumped into the pool, that this was all just a huge mistake. But there was another side that told him not to give a shit. That side sounded a lot like Connie, and it kept him calm and thankfully, Jean noticed, it was the loudest thought in his head.

 

“Are you even _listening_ to me, brace-face!?” The green-eyed teen yelled.

 

Jean balled his hands into fists and lifted them out of the pool, raised well above his head. Just as he could see Eren’s confusion, he stuck out both of his middle fingers and bit his lip, showing his front teeth as if about to pronounce the good old F word he was thinking of. 

 

Eren, as well as a few others around him, gaped in disbelief. A more significant crowd let out loud snorts and whistles, mostly coming from Connie. 

 

Before Eren could even get a chance to respond, a loud shriek echoed throughout the yard and a giant splash followed. And then another, and another, and soon enough the whole pool was filled with even more teenagers. 

 

Jean felt his heart beating erratically. He couldn’t believe he had just done that…to Eren no less! He was so gonna get his ass kicked later, he just knew it. But somehow, he didn’t find it in him to care right now. He was having fun and he was too much on a high to come down in a slump.

 

“You’re honestly THE MAN, Jean!!” Connie clamped an arm around Jean’s neck and pulled him in as much of a side hug as he could manage while still trying to tread water. 

 

“Yeah, that took some serious balls!” Said a higher-pitched voice with a distinct Southern drawl.

 

Both teens turned to see a brown-haired girl with nicely tanned skin and wide brown eyes. 

 

“I thought all y'all yankees were just talk but it seems like y'all actually got bite,” the girl gave a toothy grin. 

“Um…thanks?” Jean didn't know who this weird country girl was but he figured she was complimenting him.

“The name’s Sasha. I just moved in from South Carolina.” 

 

“H-Hey, I’m Jean.”

 

“And I’m Connie!” The bald teen raised his hand as a sort of hello, splashing Jean in the face.

 

Sasha beamed, clearly showing the dimples on the side of her cheeks, “I really liked your cannonballs!”

 

Connie snorted, which earned a kick to his thigh from Jean.

 

“Thanks. I doubt Eren feels the same,” Jean rolled his eyes.

 

“Are you one of his friends?” Connie asked. 

 

“Me!? Uh, not really, haha!” Sasha smiled sheepishly. “I was actually scoping out my new school and met these _really_ nice guys and this one girl with mean eyes and freckles.” The brown-haired girl squinted her eyes as if to imitate the ones she had seen. 

 

“So they…bullied you into coming?” Jean asked with a confused look on his face.

 

“Nope! They said one of their friends from the football team was having a party and asked me if I wanted to come along. So I did!”

 

Jean briefly wondered if this is what high school was like, inviting complete strangers to a friend’s party and hoping they didn’t end up being a total axe-murderer or something.

 

“Heyyyy, how’s it goin’, hash brown!?” A huge blond teen swam over to them.

 

“Oh, hi!!” Sasha waved. She turned to Jean and Connie, “Guys, this is Reiner, one of the guys who invited me!”

 

Jean frowned. He remembered the blond from his birthday party and did _not_ feel like dealing with his shenanigans again. 

 

“Bert and I were wondering where you went off to. Didn’t think you’d find your way to Eren’s kid brother though. I actually didn’t think you’d be here, little dude.” Reiner laughed.

 

Jean furrowed his eyebrows and pursed his lips, “Um…I live here??”

 

“Right, right,” Reiner nodded. 

 

Jean _really_ didn’t feel like dealing with Eren’s stupid friends at that moment, or ever to be honest, so he slowly began swimming away as Reiner began talking to Sasha about whatever stupid high school thing they had in common. Connie followed suit. 

 

“See? I told you the party’d be fun!” Connie said as he floated on his back.

 

The paler teen rolled his eyes. “Yeah, if Eren’s dumb friends weren’t practically crawling all over the place.”

 

Connie fought the urge to roll his own eyes, “Bro, you gotta just accept that your and Eren’s lives are like intertwined and shit. Like, you’re always gonna have to deal with him and his friends. You just gotta deal with it and make the most of it like you did just now. Tell him to fuck off and just enjoy yourself, ya know?”

 

Jean stared at Connie knowing that he had a point, but he still didn’t want to admit it. So he just settled with splashing his face with water, making the shorter teen sputter with a mouth full of chlorine water. 

 

Just as Connie was about to start a whole splash war Sasha swam over to them and called out to get their attention: “Hey y’all! So apparently that girl, um, Ymir I think her name is, yeah, she made some brownies that Reiner said were pretty darn tasty. He said we could have some if we want!”

 

Jean’s eyebrows shot up and Connie started laughing hysterically.

 

“Sasha, I don’t think they’re the kinda brownies you’re thinking of,” the bald teen said in between chuckles. 

 

Sasha looked confused. “But he said they were homemade!”

 

Jean sighed, “Conn, just let her get baked. It’ll be fun.”

 

“Whatever you say, man.”

 

“Oh look, that’s her over there!” Sasha pointed to the freckled girl standing at the edge of the pool. 

 

Jean turned to look but his eyes settled on a different freckled teen. One with his arm wrapped around a petite blonde and a gregarious smile practically glued onto his face. The two-toned haired teen felt his skin grow cold.  
  
“Ooh, is that her brother?” Sasha asked as her eyes followed Jean’s line of sight.  
  
Jean clenched his jaw, “I gotta pee.”

 

“Huh?”

 

Jean swam to the edge of the pool and pushed himself out of the cool water. As sooner as his feet settled on the ground, Jean felt his body become heavy, weighed down by his water-soaked shorts and soggy hair. Nevertheless, the teen trudged through the crowd and towards his house, dripping over some people sitting on the patio. 

 

He was _pissed_. He couldn’t get one single day where he didn’t think about Marco. The freckled teen just always had to _be there,_ even when Jean didn’t want him to. It was infuriating. For months Jean had been able to dodge Marco, making sure to keep himself busy and out of the house just to minimize the chances of seeing Marco whenever he visited Eren. And just when Jean thought the coast was clear, _he_ was there. And just one look at his face made Jean’s insides churn in anxiety. The last thing he wanted was to fall for Marco’s charms again. He didn’t need to be taken by some oblivious, captivating, frustratingly handsome—

 

Jean stopped his thoughts right there and shook his head. 

 

‘ _Fuck. Him.’_ He thought to himself. _‘Seriously, fuck him. Fuck HIM. F—’_

 

A firm shoulder rammed into Jean’s, causing him to stagger back into a wall.

 

“FUCK!” Jean shouted. “Can’t you see I’m _walking_ here!?”

 

The teen furrowed his eyebrows and looked up at the turd who bumped into him, his mouth curled in a snarl, ready to give the other guy a tongue lashing. But the second his eyes caught sight of the black-haired beauty with almond-shaped eyes, his mouth gaped open and his eyebrows shot up. 

 

‘ _Holy…shittt’._

 

The girl turned to him with an almost bored look on her face. “Sorry,” she said in a monotone voice. 

 

Before Jean could even reply back and mutter his own apologies, the girl looked around as if searching for somebody and disappeared out of his line of sight. 

 

The fourteen-year-old felt his heart beating rapidly against his chest and his face suddenly felt very warm.

 

She was the prettiest girl he had ever seen.

* * *

 

_August 20th, 2012_

 

Every time after that Jean seemed to see that girl everywhere.

 

It was honestly due to the fact that the girl was apparently Eren’s friend—Jean seethed to himself every time he thought about it—but even then, it was incredible how lucky he was that she just seemed to be at his house for most of the summer. Both her and that little blond kid who always came to help Eren with his summer homework.

 

Either way, Jean was just glad the super pretty asian girl was around all the time. In fact, he talked about her with Connie all the time. But after the umpteenth time he brought her up, Connie had a few ideas of his own.

 

“Dude, what if she’s his girlfriend?”

 

Jean paused. “What?”

 

Connie lazily shrugged, “What if that chick is Eren’s girlfriend and that’s why she’s at your house all the time. Like, wouldn’t that make sense?”

 

The two-toned teen suddenly felt his stomach churn. “There’s no fucking way she’s going out with _Eren_. She’s way out of his league!!”

 

“I mean, she’s wayyyy outta yours too, buddy,” Connie snorted, which earned him an aggressive slap to the arm. 

 

“Shut the fuck up, I’m being serious! She’s so ahhhh, and he’s so ughhhh. It totally wouldn’t work between the two of them.”

 

“I don’t even know what that means, man,” the short teen laughed.

 

A slim body laying next to Connie on his bed rolled over onto it’s stomach and popped it’s head up. “They could just be friendly friendsssss?”

 

“Thank YOU, Sasha!” Jean said with his hands held out to her. “At least _someone_ is on my side.”

 

“Hey, I’m on your side!” Connie retorted. “I’m just sayin’, if she is, ya got one helluva problemo, buddy.”

 

Sasha shook her head, “What a pal, Connie.” She said disapprovingly as she shoved some chips into her mouth. 

 

Jean leaned back into the beanbag and contemplated his life at that very moment. His entire summer up to that point was mostly spent either at his house playing video games with Connie, who seemed to be attached at the hip with the new girl they met, or at Connie’s house laying around as he and Sasha got high.

 

He wasn’t sure when it started, but Connie suddenly got into weed and smoked it every now and then. To be honest, it probably all started after Sasha had those weed brownies Ymir made. After having what Sasha described as a “nice fuzzy feeling”, it seemed that she somehow kept getting her hands on edibles and often shared them with Connie. Though apparently Connie preferred to smoke for whatever reason. It didn’t make sense to Jean, to purposely induce a feeling of dizziness and lack of self-control. It seemed dumb to him. 

 

And yet, every time Connie and Sasha got high off their asses, he would always be around. It didn’t really bother him and he liked being coherent, so he figured he was a good person to have around to stop the other two from getting into any shenanigans. 

 

“Connieeeeee. Order a pizza!!!” Sasha tugged at Connie’s arm. 

 

“You just ate my entire chip stash!! Plus, I thought I ordered one before…” Connie said with a faint smirk on his face.

 

Jean looked amused, “Uh, nah man. You called Domino’s all right, but you ended up getting into a deep conversation with the pizza dude about why geniuses are always the saddest people. I think you made the guy quit his job.”

 

Connie squinted his eyes as if he couldn’t see Jean clearly, “What the fuckkk, mannn.”

 

Honestly, Jean liked seeing Connie high as fuck. He was very different than he usually was. Connie’s that kind of person who’s always positive and inspirational, but when he’s high he’s a philosophical motherfucker. But of course, his little bursts of introspection never lasted very long. He’d soon revert back to normal Connie.

 

“What if…if Jean and _I_ make a pizza!! He can put some of that French shit his momma makes!!” The bald teen said as he leaned his head back against his pillows.

 

“The potatoes????” Sasha said excitedly.

 

“Yahhh~”

 

Jean quirked an eyebrow, “You mean _poutine_?” 

 

“Yeah, that!!”

 

“I highly doubt poutine on pizza would taste any good, Conn.”

 

Connie smiled, “You won’t know unless you try!”

 

Sasha abruptly sat up and had a determined look on her face. “PIZZA TIME!!!” She climbed off the bed, nearly toppling over, and ran towards the bedroom door. 

 

“Sasha, no!!” Jean called after her. He turned to his tiny friend, who was clearly in another world at the moment, and looked to him for help. “This is your house, man. What if your mom finds out you guys are high as fuck??”

 

Connie just giggled and did nothing but lay still in his bed. “I just blame it on the ADHD, haha!!”

 

Jean sighed and rolled his eyes. 

 

High school hadn’t even started yet and he was already convinced that these would be the craziness four years of his life. Especially because of those two. 

 

* * *

 

_September 4, 2012_

 

High school was a lot more intimidating than Jean originally thought. It was literally day one and he had already gotten lost on multiple occasions while trying to get to class. Who the hell thought it was okay to shove over a thousand teenagers into one building??? It was clearly the stupidest idea ever, if someone asked Jean. 

 

Needless to say, Jean was _not_ enjoying high school whatsoever. And it didn’t help that for what seemed like the millionth time that day, he was lost. All he wanted to do what get to his friggin’ math class. 

 

So as he rounded the corner to what he felt was the math wing of his school, he recognized a familiar freckled face standing in front of a locker talking to a tiny blonde. 

 

And Jean made a complete 180 and walked towards the English wing instead. 

 

Not today, Satan. 

 

* * *

 

_October 31, 2012_

 

“Dude, we GOTTA go!! Sasha was able to pull some strings to get us invited so we can’t just flake out!” Connie whined. 

 

Jean practically slammed his locker and rolled his eyes. “I don’t wanna go to some stupid-ass Halloween party at some jock’s house. I thought it’d just be you, me, and Sasha this year. Party it up at my house and all that.”

 

Connie gave Jean a sassy look. “Jean, we _always_ hang out at your house. And this is the first high school party we’ve ever been invited to! Hell, this could be the only high school party we can ever get IN to. We have to go, man!”

 

“Ugh. Fine. But I’m not dressing up.” Jean groaned. 

 

“Whatever you want, bro. Sasha and I are gonna be salt and pepper shakes though. How smart is that!?”

 

“Very,” the Canadian teen said sarcastically. 

 

————

 

They rolled up in Jean’s minivan and stared out the window at the seemingly docile Halloween party. 

 

“Are you sure it’s here?” Jean’s mom asked. 

 

“Yep! This is my friend, Reiner’s house!” Sasha said as she slid open the car door. 

 

“Stay safe,” Clara said as she kissed Jean’s forehead.

 

“We will, maman.”

 

“Thank for the ride, Mrs. Kirschtein!” Connie called as he hopped out of the van. 

 

“My pleasure, Conrad!”

 

Jean snorted. He loved the fact that his mom called Connie by his full name. It was almost payback for all those times Connie teased him about his middle name. 

 

Once they all piled out of the van and Jean’s mom drove away, they walked up to the front door of the house. Almost immediately the door swung open and loud music poured out of the doorway. Two drunken teenagers swayed out and plopped down on the porch outside.

 

“Heyyy, you guys got a lighter?” The drunk guy asked them. 

 

The three of them just shook their heads, which caused the guy to click his tongue at them, sigh and then just passed out on his girlfriend’s lap.

 

Jean and Connie looked at each other in a bit of horror, but Sasha just pushed them in towards the party. 

 

“Come on, guys. It’ll be fun!! This is nothing compared to the throw downs we had back home!”

 

Jean briefly wondered if all southerners were as big-balled and intense as Sasha. 

 

Nevertheless, the two fourteen-year-olds walked in and suddenly smelled the strong stench of alcohol and marijuana. 

 

“I’m getting fucked up tonight,” Connie said excitedly. 

 

Jean felt hesitant and a bit uncomfortable, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t a little thrilled. He wasn’t all about getting high or drunk, but he wasn’t opposed to trying out new things. For all he knew, he might even like beer. But he knew he wasn’t about to get fucked up the way he knew Connie and Sasha were. 

 

He followed Sasha towards the back of the house. They passed through the living room filled with dancing teenagers and into the kitchen where a line of people were waiting to use the keg in the corner of the room. 

 

“This party is INSANE!!” Connie said loudly into Jean’s ear. 

 

Jean just nodded as he grabbed a red solo cup from off the kitchen counter. He was feeling a bit nervous. He really wasn’t planning on doing anything tonight, and yet here he was, at his first real high school party and about to drink actual BEER. It was nerve-wracking to say the least. 

 

“Don’t let me get drunk,” he told Connie, who just gave him a thumbs up as he danced to the music while they waited on line. 

 

Jean somehow had a feeling he couldn’t count on Connie for this one. Nevertheless, Jean stayed on line and nervously tapped his fingers against his thigh while holding the red solo cup in his other hand. He looked around 

 

The tawny-haired teen looked around the kitchen that the line was currently going through and his eyes settled on a familiar head of silky black hair standing next to a shorter blond. 

 

Jean elbowed Connie, “Yo, I think _she’s_ here!”

 

Connie looked confused for a second, “Who’s _she_ …OH, you mean the pretty girl who hangs with Eren?”

 

“I don’t see Eren here, though. You think she’s here alone?” Jean said as he began readjusting his shirt and standing up a bit taller.

 

“Smart girls don’t go to parties alone,” Sasha chimed in casually. 

 

“Fuck, you’re right. How am I supposed to talk to her, then? I can’t do it if she’s with friends.” Jean started to shift around out of nervousness.

 

Connie snorted, “You already can’t talk to her.” To which Jean replied by sticking his middle finger up at the bald teen. 

 

“No, seriously, what should I do??” Jean said anxiously.

 

“Dude, just get some fucking beer in your system and you’ll have the cojones you need.” Connie said as they slowly made their way closer to the keg.

 

“True…”  


At that moment there was a loud ruckus and a couple of beefy guys wearing skeleton costumes set down a _huge_ bottle of clear liquid onto the counter. Jean was pretty sure it wasn’t water either. Quickly, almost as an assembly line, the guys took out small neon-colored shot glasses and filled them up with the clear liquid from the bottle that clearly read “Burnett’s”. 

 

Each shot glass made its way around the kitchen and before he realized it, Jean had a glass in his hand. He looked over at Connie and Sasha and saw they each had one too. The tawny-haired teen felt a mixture of anxiety and excitement build up inside him. 

 

Connie looked over at him and moved his mouth closer to Jean’s ear so he could hear him over the loud music, “You know, you don’t have to drink it if you don’t want to. Sasha’ll drink it for you, she’s got a tough fucking liver, man!”

 

Jean looked down at the neon plastic in his hand and glanced up at the other teenagers in the room. They were all drinking it in gulps, making a slight face after swallowing but immediately smiling nonetheless.

 

If they had fun doing it, surely he had to as well…right?

 

Jean gulped nervously, “I just wanted beer, yo…but I’ll do it. I won’t pussy out.”

 

Connie grinned, “Ayyyy, here’s to our first official high school party!!” He clinked his glass with Jean’s and a second later they poured the liquid into their mouths. 

 

Jean instantly regretted his decision to do so. He could only drink half of the shot before feeling like barfing it up. 

 

“Just swallow it, man. You can’t quit now!” Jean heard Connie’s cheering from beside him. “Here, swallow and chase it with this,” the bald teen said as he shoved a red solo cup into Jean’s hand. 

 

Jean opened up his throat, letting the nasty ass vodka slide down his throat and quickly began chugging from the cup Connie had given him, which was filled with equally as nasty beer. 

 

The teen cringed, “FUCK, that was gross!!”

 

Sasha’s laughs could be heard from beside Connie, “You gotta get used to the taste, young Padawan.”

 

Jean stuck out his tongue, “Yeah, don’t think I ever will.”

 

The trio, having gotten more alcohol than they planned, made their way into the basement, which seemed dark, ominous, and yet even more fun. The staircase to the basement was sketchy and had no railing, which Jean decided was definitely a hazard, so he simply grasped at the wall and made sure he didn’t trip. Because with his luck, he totally would. 

 

The only light, Jean realized, was emanating from some black lights glued to the ceiling, exposing neon words painted on to the walls of the basement. 

 

It was at that very moment Jean noticed something weird about the house they were in. 

 

“Who’s house did you say this was?” Jean loudly asked Sasha as they maneuvered through the crowd of dancing bodies. 

 

The Southerner shrugged, “Ymir said it was a friend’s from college or something. Not sure. I just know they use it to throw parties.”

 

That made all the more sense the more that Jean thought about it. It would definitely explain those guys with beards who were undoubtedly NOT high school students. Usually that fact would make Jean feel uncomfortable, being in a place where he barely knew anyone, mildly intoxicated and shoved in a dark room filled with people who smelled like a mixture of weed and alcohol. And yet, he found himself not caring all that much. 

 

Jean even found himself bobbing his head to the music, which was some bastardized EDM version of some Justin Bieber song. The black lights made the entire basement glow, and yet no one’s face could be clearly seen. This level of anonymity was oddly comforting for Jean, who never really felt at ease anywhere. So once he took enough sips of the beer in his cup, his body began moving to the beat of whatever catchy song played next. Never in a million years did he think he would be doing the exact things he was doing tonight, and yet here he was, at a party, drinking, dancing, all like a normal teenager. 

 

Were these the typical teen years everyone raved about in movies and stupid cliched novels? Was this the moment in his life that he’d think about when he was old and gray? Because Jean found himself enjoying it very much, contrary to what he initially thought. 

 

And that’s when it happened.

 

Jean paused. He heard the first beat and he knew. The guitar rift began and he started head banging like his life depended on it. 

 

“Yoooo!!” Connie yelled out, figuring it out as well.

 

“Am I mooore than you bargained for yet?” Jean sang at the top of his lungs, as did the entirety of the basement crowd, much to his surprise. 

 

Teen bodies started jumping up and down, arms raised above their heads, singing along to every word.

 

“WE’RE GOING DOWN, DOWN IN AN EARLIER ROUND AND SUGAR WE’RE GOING DOWN SWINGING”, the voices echoed throughout the crowd. 

 

Jean couldn’t help but feel goosebumps on his arms. This was his music, these were the lyrics he had only sang to himself in his bedroom, and yet here were dozens of other people his age rocking out to the music he liked. He thought he was weird for liking Fall Out Boy, but it seemed like everyone liked them, or at least knew this one song. Either was okay with Jean, he was honestly having the time of his life, jumping up and down amidst a crowd of masked teenagers in weird ass costumes. 

 

At some point after the song ended, Jean realized his cup was empty and he was sweaty as fuck. 

 

He clasped a hand on Connie’s shoulder and leaned over to basically shout in his ear, “Hey, I’m gonna head upstairs to cool off and get another drink! Want anything?”

 

The shorter teen shook his head and simply kept dancing to the beat. 

 

Jean took a moment to remember where Connie and Sasha were standing so he could make his way back to them. He turned on his heel and pushed through a crowd of angels and Waldos to make his way up the stairs. 

 

Once he got up to the main floor he navigated his way to the kitchen. He was excited to feel so free and alive. Jean had always thought these kinds of parties were only things out of cliche teen movies, but he was here, he was actually living the life.

 

And that’s when he saw a familiar face that brought him back to reality.

 

Jean felt his heart stop at the sight of Marco’s face. But it wasn’t the fact that he was there, no, Jean expected that. It was the fact that he was holding some chick’s hand and heading up the stairs. Marco had a nervous smile on his face, the kind Jean came to know very well. He seemed excited, which answered any questions Jean had about where Marco was headed.

 

Jean’s stomach churned and he felt the beer come back up.

 

_‘Oh fuck’_.

 

The fourteen-year-old had no idea what to do, his focus shifted from Marco to the nearest door. He glanced around anxiously looking for a way out. His heart beat felt erratic and his stomach felt queasy. So he just ran to the front door, swung it open and practically threw himself over the porch railing.

 

“Duuuuude!!” A faraway voice exclaimed in disgust as Jean puked over the front of the house.

 

Somehow it kept coming, and Jean felt sweat forming on his forehead as he was puking his brains out. He felt dizzy and his eyesight was blurring. Jean was sure he looked like a wreck.

 

A deep sigh came from behind him he felt two arms pick him up and drag him off the porch.

 

“This is why you shouldn’t come to parties, brace face,” Jean heard Eren’s voice talking to him, but his brain couldn’t register what was happening.

 

“He…he wen’ upstairs wit’er…” Jean slurred.

 

Eren shook his head, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

 

Jean sniffled, feeling like complete shit and he didn’t know why. “I…I jus’ wanted s’more beer.”

 

Eren picked him up and down the front stairs, “We’re going home, you little shit. That’s enough fun for you. Now stop crying before I get pissed.”

 

Jean hadn’t even noticed he was crying but he simply nodded as he leaned on the one person he hated most.“Dontchu hate me?”

 

The older teen sighed, “Yeah but your mom will kill me if you die here so I’m picking my battles.”

 

“Oh…”

 

The last thought Jean had before he passed out was that maybe Eren wasn’t the worst person in the world.

 

* * *

 

_February 15, 2013_

 

“Ya know, I’d totally bang a guy for a money,” Connie blurted out one day as they were playing video games on their laptops.

 

Jean paused, “What the fuck?”

 

“Yeah, like that gay for pay stuff. If I need money, I’m okay with some dude being all up in my business. Doesn’t mean I’d like it, but hey, it’s a job.” He said without reservation.

 

“Connie, seriously. What the fuck, dude?”

 

The bald teen looked up from his screen, “What? It’s not gay. And even if I was, don’t rain on my parade.”

 

“Aren’t you and Sasha, like, a thing?”

 

Connie suddenly didn’t look so amused. “I don’t know, bro. Why would it matter anyway?”

 

Jean was beyond confused, “I feel like most girls would be weirded out if their boyfriend wanted to bang a guy.”

 

“Dude, I said I’d do it for _money_. And I know for a FACT that Sasha would also bang a lady for cash. So it’s good.”

 

Jean paused. “Why…are you bringing this up all of a sudden?”

 

Connie kept tapping his keyboard, never taking his eyes away from the screen. “Just thought I’d put it out there, ya know, so it’s not weird.”

 

“Is this about what those guys wrote on my locker? ‘Cause I’m already pissed at that. Like, I didn’t mean anything by it, I just thought I’d—”

 

Connie paused his game and finally looked up. “Dude, I don’t care if you are or not. I think it’s really fucked up that they call you that word. I just…wanted you to know that you’re not alone, ya know? It’s pretty normal actually.”

 

Jean felt his hands start shaking. He had never told anyone about his feelings and if it weren’t for those stupid seniors who wrote that word on his locker, no one would’ve questioned him. He hated that now everyone was looking at him differently. All because he thought he’d be festive and send a Valentine to Connie and Sasha. Now they all thought he was…

 

“Jean?”

 

The Canadian teen was shaken out of his thoughts and tried to stay calm. “I only like you as a friend, Connie, I don’t want us to be weird or anything.”

 

“I know that, and I’m not like, freaking out or anything. I just wanted to let you know that I’m not gonna judge or anything.”

 

Jean felt a warmth spread over his chest. Could he really confide in Connie about the whole Marco thing? He’s hidden it for so long, he wasn’t sure if he even _could_ talk about it if he wanted to. But Connie was his best friend and here he was, candidly telling him it was okay.

 

He took a deep breath and exhaled.

 

“I…think I was in love with a guy once.” Jean was afraid to look at Connie in the eyes, unsure of how he’d react.

 

Connie smiled, “Oh yeah? What’s his name?”

 

Jean looked up and saw Connie’s curious look. Maybe it _was_ okay to tell him after all.


End file.
